#okay i’m embarrassed running away gn

[seraphdreams]

service dom heaven between kamo and choso. it’s. woah. the vision of having you in choso’s lap because his body drapes over yours from behind while kamo massages your knees and calmly coaxes you into opening up for them.

“are you nervous, baby? don’t be shy, it’s okay.” kamo’s soft voice eases you like a sip of warm tea on a cold night .. he’s not as touchy as his counterpart who’s a little too distracted in gently running his large hands up and down your sides wondering how he got so lucky with a perfect angel like you. it’s embarrassing how you landed yourself in the situation, and also how you whorishly take in the opportunity, allowing choso’s roaming hands to knead your breasts while he tries oh so hard to keep from rutting up into you and groaning along the expanse of your neck. and kamo? with those lithe fingers of his, dexterously dipping in and out of your core with such precision, it’s amusing to him how you grow greedier — and wetter by the second.

[nereidprinc3ss]

pretty little things

in which you can't keep hiding your stuffed animals from your boyfriend. spencer would like a formal introduction.

fluff! warnings/tags: gn!reader I think, newish established relationship, they're so cute, reader is still kinda shy around him, I'm really obsessed with this dynamic actually, implied intimacy if you decide to interpret it that way, kissing/maybe mildly suggestive a/n: this is dedicated to my friends @parfaitblogs and @gublersg1rl bc in another universe we are actually just three jellycat plushies on someone's bed which is where the inspo for this little thing came from. and thank u willow for naming your fox. ok bye love u hope u enjoy !! :D

The first time you’d shown Spencer your room, and the handful of times he’s been in it since, you very intentionally hid your stuffed animals underneath the bed. After all, you’re an adult. You have a grown up job. And you don’t need him thinking you’re some kind of freak this early into the relationship. You like him too much. 

Today, however—you didn’t have any warning. He comes over unannounced, which is all well and good, until you bring him to your bedroom so he can sit on the bed while you change from work clothes into something comfier for movie night. As soon as you open the bedroom door, you see them, lined up neatly by your pillow, and you know it’s too late. 

“Uh…”

Spencer runs into your back and takes it as an excuse to settle his hands on your hips as he peers over your shoulder. 

“What?”

You slip out of his easy hold and skitter to your bed, practically throwing yourself on the mattress and sitting unnaturally as the little beaded eyes of your friends dig into your back. Even your brightest smile doesn’t distract Spencer. He’s like a bloodhound for the truth. At least, that’s the sense you’re beginning to get. 

“What are you doing?” He tries again, eyes narrowed and closing the door carefully behind him. 

“Nothing!”

The urgency with which you say it has his eyebrows raising. Obviously delighted by the embarrassing secret he’s sure to uncover, he approaches. You lean back further even as he towers over you until you’re almost on your back and he’s folded over you, menacingly (and dizzyingly) close. This sort of position is still new-ish and has your heart pounding, even if it’s entirely playful and ostensibly innocent. 

“Nothing? Are you sure?”

You nod, still shying away from him into the pile of pillows. Without looking he reaches under you and pulls out your pink bunny. You squeak and hide your face. 

“What is this?” He laughs, and you yank it away, sitting up so he’s forced to give you some breathing room. The bunny is cradled protectively in your arms, though you try to hold it a bit more casually when you notice. 

“I said it’s nothing.”

“What about the other two behind you? The fox and the… what is that? A deer?”

“No—”

“I didn’t even know they made deer stuffed animals—”

“Spencer, stop!”

He does, at the desperate tone of voice and the way you’re still hiding from him. 

“No, no! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tease you. Don’t be embarrassed. I’m sorry.”

As usual he’s over apologetic, now sitting knee to knee with you on the mattress and leaning down to try and catch your eye. You huff and grant him some eye contact just so he doesn’t go over the edge with worry. 

“But it’s embarrassing.”

“No, it’s really not,” he laughs. “It’s cute. I can’t believe you’ve been—what, hiding them from me? This whole time? That’s like not telling me you have kids.”

“It is not like that.”

“Hm. I don’t know, I think you should probably introduce me.”

You give him a look, letting your head fall to your shoulder. “Spencer.”

“I’m serious. I’m going to be apart of their lives now. You can’t keep shoving them under the bed every time I stay the night.”

This nerd is going to be the death of you. 

Eventually, you groan reluctantly. 

“Fine. Okay, um—this one is… well—her name is Bunny. It’s not… very creative, but it’s—that’s just her name, okay?”

Spencer doesn’t react to your unjustified defensiveness—only grabs your bunny’s round little pink paw and shakes. “Enchanted.”

“Shut up.” Your face is so hot as you bury your smile and set Bunny aside, making sure she’s comfortable against the pillow before bringing out your deer. Spencer doesn’t have the shit-eating grin you were partially expecting when you glance up at him from beneath your lashes—he’s smiling, but it’s so soft. A little twisted, like he’s holding back the full extent of it for your sake. But you wouldn’t mind it at full power. It’s like he’s hiding the sun in a saucepan and the lid’s not on quite right. And he’s looking right at you. Like you’re the source of all his joy. 

A moment passes. You clear your throat and look back down. “Um—this is Bambi. ’Cause—you know.”

“I do,” Spencer agrees genially, nodding as if this were a normal conversation. “Kind of a dark thing to name your deer, though.”

“You’re judging,” you accuse balefully. He chuckles and his hand finds your knee, rubbing apologetically. 

“I’m not, I’m not! I take it back. I retract it. Continue, please.”

For a moment you only pout, but it doesn’t deter him—he simply looks at you expectantly, and now those syrupy eyes come with the added bonus of his hand on your leg. Fine. He wins. But not without a deep, tortured sigh from you while you’re grabbing your fox that makes the corner of his mouth twitch up. 

“This one is…”

The name dies on your tongue, too ridiculous to be said out loud. 

“Tell me,” Spencer pleads in that gentle voice and with those big eyes that you’d consider burning him at the stake for because that look on his face has to be witchcraft. 

“Okay but you can’t laugh,” you insist in one quick breath, giving him a serious look that he can only partially reciprocate. 

“No laughing.”

“It’s… Mr. Cuddles.”Spencer bites the inside of his cheek to keep his promise. You melt inside both from embarrassment and from the way it only further defines an already superbly sculpted bone structure. “Do not.”

Spencer scoffs at your warning. “Don’t what? I’m behaving.”

“Don’t make fun of Mr. Cuddles!”

“Does it look like I’m making fun of him?”

“Her.”

“What?”

“Her. Mr. Cuddles is a girl.”

“I see… can you explain that to me?”

“If a human person said I am a girl and I would like you to call me Mister, would you question that? Would you ask them to explain it to you?”

“I guess not.”

“Exactly. Don’t be rude.”The way Spencer is looking at you now, eyes so clear and still so full of affection, like you’ve got some sort of heavenly spotlight trained on you, lips parted as if to say something but still silent, has you forgetting your momentary confidence. You shrink. “What?”

“I just… you’re amazing.” You throw Mr. Cuddles at his chest and fall into your pile of pillows with a groan. Spencer only continues rubbing your leg. It’s very nice, actually. He’s gentle. And patient. “You don’t believe me?”

“I don’t believe you came to this conclusion just because I introduced you to my stuffed animals.”

“Not solely because of that. There are a lot of contributing factors. I mean, the stuffed animal thing helped.”

“It’s embarrassing,” you insist for the umpteenth time. 

“It’s adorable.”

Spencer pushes pillows aside and lies next to you so you’re eye to eye. It’s nice how his presence isn’t exhausting the way people sometimes are. He’s easy to exist with. He makes you enjoy existing a little more than usual. Even now. 

You raise your eyebrows and speak, cheek squished against fabric. “I’m a serious adult.”

“I know you are,” he assures with a solemn nod. 

Your eyes narrow ever so slightly. 

“Okay… well… don’t go forgetting that. I’m fun but I can also be not fun.”

“I’d love to see that.”

“No you wouldn’t. You would hate it. You’d be so scared.”

Spencer gives up on holding back a smile and moves his hand to tuck hair behind your ear. 

“You’re right. I’m already terrified. The anticipation… it’s killing me, you know?”

You’re giggling as you roll over on top of him and he roots his hand in your hair, pulling you in for a long, smiley kiss like he knew it was coming. Only when he blindly throws your stuffed friends from the bed do you pull away—just by an inch or so. 

“No respect,” you scold playfully. He kisses you again, tangling your legs and hands wandering. 

“Can I apologize later?”

You’re good with that. 

[cellophanejpeg]

torment.

s.: "I have nightmares about your limp body being wheeled into the emergency room." (or: Harvey wakes up from a bad nightmare, but you're there to comfort him.) - Harvey (stardew valley) x gn!reader

w.c.: 1.3k (short but sweet)

read on ao3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

A panicked call of his name echoes through the clinic. Faceless people surround him in a circle as he approaches the table; cold metal digs on his skin as he presses his palm on its surface. The familiar scent of your perfume reaches his nose and his stomach drops. Please don’t be you, he thinks to himself as he takes the white sheet off the limp body.

He knew it would end like this, deep down he knew it. You went to the mines almost every day, never listening to his pleas. But as he lifts the white fabric, he prays to whatever god exists that it’s not you. The color of your hair comes into view and his world crumbles.

When he opens his eyes, sucking a sharp breath in, he immediately sits up on the bed and tries to remember where he is. The darkness in the room suffocates him a little, the blurriness of his vision makes him panic for a second.

But he's home. In your shared bedroom, in your shared bed. You sleep peacefully next to him, oblivious of his outburst. The day was long, the weather was impossibly hot, so it's understandable you passed out after working on your farm. Your face is an absurd contrast to his dream, the color in your face brings him the breath that was escaping from him.

Harvey's heart is still beating fast, however. He brings a hand to his chest, clutching his sleep shirt, the pendant you gave him underneath the fabric brings him some comfort.

Lying back down, his arms snake around your middle as he buries his face on your hair, the scent of your homemade shampoo lingering on him. It reminds him of his nightmare, where your hair was flat, cold to the touch, underneath the sheets. The image of your face, deprived of all blood, lifeless eyes, makes him tighten his grip on you, as a reminder that it was just a dream and you're still here.

Harvey doesn't notice you're awake until a strangled whimper comes out of you. He squeezed you too hard, he thinks, waking you up and ruining your night of sleep. Pulling away, he looks down at you, who rubs your eyes as you turn around to face your lover.

“Harvey?” You ask, voice laced with sleep, “what's the matter?”

“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” he replies, pressing his lips on your forehead, “go back to sleep.”

“Hey, what's wrong?” You sit up and reach beside you to turn the lamp on. “Why are you crying?”

Harvey doesn’t notice the tears in his tears until they run down his cheeks as he sits up. And it’s like something snaps inside him. A sob escapes his lips and then another, a guttural sound, making your heart break. You lunge forward and pull him into an embrace as he cries, sobbing and mumbling about a nightmare he had.

“It was just a dream,” You say softly trying to comfort him, “just a dream, baby, it's all right.”

“You were– you were so cold and– I couldn't… I–” He tried to speak, face buried on your neck, wetting your night shirt with his tears, “I'm sorry, I just–”

“I’m okay, see?” You cup his cheeks, thumbing away the thick tears, “It was just a nightmare, I’m right here.”

With that, Harvey feels his heart slow down, the tears stop. Suddenly, he feels stupid, like a little kid that runs to their mother when they have a bad dream. Rouge paints his cheekbones as he reaches up to wipe his face clean.

“I’m sorry, I–” His voice is rough, thick with embarrassment, “I woke you up–”

“Don’t apologize. I’ll always be here for you.”

Your words only make him blush more, “Still, I– I know you had a long day and…”

A smile spreads on your face and you shake your head, bringing your lips to his in a sweet kiss. “You would do the same for me.”

And he realizes that, yes, he would do the same for you. If you had a nightmare and woke him up, he wouldn’t think you were a child, or stupid. He would comfort you, just as you did to him. It brings him back to the first night he spent at your house, when he was constantly bringing himself down as you brought him to bed, saying that it’d been a while, or that he didn’t have time to groom himself.

“I love every bit of you,” you said back then, “Why can’t you?”

Harvey watches as you get out of bed, taking his hand and urging him to get up too. He glances at the bedside clock and frowns confused. It’s three in the morning.

“Come,” you whisper, “I’ll get you some cold milk.”

He complies when you guide him to the aquarium room, where, besides the huge fish tanks, there’s a comfortable couch that you sometimes rest on. You have him sit down and leave for the kitchen, but it doesn’t take long until you’re back. A glass of cold milk, as promised, and a plate of homemade cookies.

“There were still some from the batch I baked this morning,” you say plopping down beside him, “and I don’t wanna hear about them not being healthy. Eat up.”

Harvey laughs softly and takes a sip from the milk, plucking a cookie from the plate right after. He looks at you, the soft blue light from the fish tanks illuminating your face in a different light. Your eyes move with the fish you keep as they swim inside their own little world.

“I love you,” Harvey says with a small voice. You look at him and notice he’s still blushing a little. “I feel like a kid, but… thank you.”

“I love you too, but you’ve got to let me take care of you, Harvey.” You smile, scooting closer to him. He automatically embraces you, putting his arm around your shoulder and relishing on the warmth of your body. “Do you want to talk about it?” you ask after a moment in silence.

“Actually, yes.” Harvey rests the glass of milk on the coffee table in the middle of the room and turns his whole body towards you. “I… I dreamed you died.” 

There’s no surprise in your eyes, but there is a hint of sadness in them. And when you don’t say anything, he continues.

“I remember your body being wheeled into the emergency room and… and…” His eyes water and he looks away, not wanting to cry any longer. “I just knew it was you, even though I didn’t want to believe it. I just…I love you too much to let you go, I can’t– I won’t be able to live without you in my life, and I–” 

“Hey.” You gently interrupt him, touching your forehead with his and cupping his face. “Don’t go down that rabbit hole. You’ll get paranoid.”

Harvey takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

“I know it’s easier said than done, but I know how much you worry about things you can’t control.” You continue. “But if you keep thinking that way, you won’t be able to… live.”

He stares at you and then pulls you into a thigh hug, “What would I do without you?”

“I know, right?” your voice is muffled by his shirt as you say, smiling. Then he pulls away and kisses you.

“I love you.”

“You say that a lot.”

Harvey snorts, “Please, if I ever stop, call an ambulance because I won’t be well.” 

You laugh, carding your fingers through his hair. “Ready to go to bed?”

He nods, “Let’s just brush our teeth first.”

“Yes, doctor!” You stand up and pull him by the hand.

Harvey watches as you walk to your shared bedroom and thinks the best decision he’s ever made in his life was to marry you.

[hoe4hotchner]

Can't Sleep Without You | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader

CW: Insomnia, emotional distress, frustration, hurt/comfort, brief mention of crying

WC: 0.7k

Summary: It's the middle of the night, and you can't sleep. With Aaron away on a case, the loneliness and exhaustion become overwhelming. Feeling desperate, you call him.

This is part of #Teddy-ber hosted by @angellsell

The clock on the nightstand glared at you - 3:24 a.m. The room felt unbearably quiet, the emptiness next to you was a cruel reminder that Aaron was gone, hundreds of miles away on the opposite side of the country. You’d been tossing and turning for hours, exhaustion weighing down your body but keeping sleep just out of reach. No matter how hard you tried, your mind wouldn’t stop racing. Every thought seemed louder, more overwhelming without him there to calm you.

You sat up, running a hand through your hair in frustration, a tear slipping down your cheek before you could stop it. You were exhausted - beyond exhausted - and the frustration was boiling over into something you couldn’t quite control. It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t you just sleep?

Your hand hovered over your phone. You didn’t want to bother him, not while he was on a case. But the loneliness was too much, and the ache of missing him only deepened the longer you lay there. With a shaky breath, you pressed his number, hoping you weren’t interrupting him.

The phone rang twice before Aaron picked up, his voice quiet but instantly concerned. “Sweetheart? What’s wrong?”

Just hearing his voice cracked something inside you. All the frustration, all the sleepless hours, everything you had been trying to hold in came crashing down. “I can’t do this, Aaron,” you said, your voice tight and trembling. “I can’t sleep. I’ve been trying for hours, and nothing’s working. I just… I just want to sleep, and I can’t.”

You could hear him sit down on the other end, the rustle of sheets of paper as he adjusted. “Hey, hey,” he soothed, his voice instantly gentle, “Take a breath for me, okay?”

But it wasn’t. The frustration was too much, and now you felt embarrassed on top of everything else. "It’s not okay,” you snapped, a sob catching in your throat. “I’m exhausted, Aaron. I’ve tried everything. I’m so… tired.”

Hot tears streamed down your face as the exhaustion crashed over you, leaving you feeling helpless. “I just want to sleep,” you repeated, your voice breaking. “I hate this. I hate that you’re not here. I feel so… alone.”

The line was silent for a moment, but when Aaron spoke again, his voice was tender. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wish I could be there with you right now. I hate being apart.”

His words only made the ache grow, but there was something calming about his presence, even through the phone. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you whispered, feeling small and defeated. “I’m just so tired.”

“Nothing’s wrong with you,” he reassured softly. “You’re overwhelmed, and it’s okay to feel like that. I’m right here. Even if I can’t hold you, I’m still with you.”

Your breath hitched as you tried to calm down, but the tears kept coming. It felt like you were unraveling. “I miss you so much,” you admitted, your voice raw. “I can’t sleep without you.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I miss you, too. Try to focus on my voice.” You closed your eyes, curling into yourself on the bed, clutching the phone like a lifeline. “I’m going to help you through it. Just breathe with me. Can you do that?”

You nodded, trying to match your breathing to his calm, steady voice. “Yeah… I can try.”

“That’s all I need you to do,” he murmured. “Take a deep breath, sweetheart. You’re safe. I’m with you.”

Slowly, the tightness in your chest began to ease. The exhaustion still clung to you, but the sharp edges of your frustration started to soften. Aaron stayed on the line, his voice a quiet hum as he guided you through each breath.

“You’re doing so well,” he whispered. “You’re okay. I’m proud of you for holding on.”

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes. “I don’t feel okay.”

“I know,” he said softly. “I’m going to stay on the phone as long as you need.”

The comfort in his words, in his unwavering presence, soothed the storm inside you just enough that your body finally started to relax. The heaviness in your eyelids returned, and this time, it wasn’t suffocating - it was an invitation to finally rest.

“I love you,” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.

“I love you, too,” Aaron whispered back, his voice the last thing you heard as sleep finally began to take over. “Sleep, sweetheart.”

Slowly, you drifted off into a deep, peaceful sleep, his voice and the promise of his love still lingering in the darkness.

[prentissluvr]

hold me, it's enough — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, hurt/comfort, established relationship, descriptions of physical assault, small injuries, blood, pet names (baby, honey), barely edited, 1.6K words. requested !

prompt : "who did this to you?"

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

the cruelest part about tonight is the way you have to call sam to come pick you up, like you’re some child who’s gotten sick at school. it’s embarrassing and makes you feel guilty because your call woke him up. he’d gone back to the motel early to sleep after a long hunt; took the impala after dean disappeared with a girl, leaving you alone in the bar with your own car in the parking lot.

he answers after four rings, voice a little husky from sleep as he says your name questioningly into the speaker.

“hey, sam,” you respond, sighing quietly to yourself, “sorry to wake you, but i– i can’t drive myself back to the motel… any chance you could pick me up?”

you hear the rustle of sheets from the other end of the line, and you assume it’s sam sitting up. “yeah, of course,” he agrees easily, already up and looking for socks to put on. you can’t see the light frown on his face as he picks up on all of the little nuances in your voice. “you don’t sound drunk. baby, is everything alright?”

you figured he’d ask, but the expectation doesn’t remedy your hesitation to answer. “i… sort of got into a fight. hit my head real hard and i don’t think i should be driving.”

the split second after your answer is enough to show you sam’s surprise. “jesus, honey, are you okay?” he asks, worry making his voice thick.

“yeah, yeah, i’m okay. promise,” you reassure him. he takes a moment to consider your words; whether you’re lying for his sake or if you’re actually okay. your voice is clear and, though a little tired, sounds like you’re just fine. you don’t seem dizzy or out of sorts, and sam takes that as a good sign considering it was your head that you hit. so, he relaxes just a touch as he climbs into the impala. you hear the car door opening and shutting through the phone speaker.

“so, you got into a bar fight?” he asks, a touch of amusement in his voice. he’s still worried about you, but that wasn’t news he expected to hear tonight, or really any night at all. sure, you never back down from a fight, but you’re certainly not the type to start one either.

you roll your eyes a little at his tone. “sort of. the guy deserved it. i elbowed him in the guts and he shoved me. he looked utterly terrified when i stood back up and he saw the look in my eyes,” you describe, humor finding its way into your voice at the end.

sam wants to give a little laugh at your joke, tell you that he can imagine the man running away with his tail between his legs just from the look in your eye, but he’s still stuck on the fact that he shoved you. on the fact that he did something that warranted you to resort to physical violence. 

he clenches his jaw before asking, “did he try to touch you?” his voice is low as he presses down on the gas harder.

wishing your comment about the man’s scared look would have been successful in distracting sam, you sigh. sometimes, sam is too damn smart and he thinks too damn much.

“he got a little handsy, but i took care of it,” you reassure him. “it’s okay. pretty sure i scared him off so bad he left the bar.”

sam grits his teeth, trying not to react too strongly in a way he knows you won’t like. “i’m gonna beat his sorry ass.” he settles for angry, but not too much, and not even possible since the fucker’s already gone.

“yeah, i know,” you sigh into the phone.

the bar’s only ten minutes from the hotel, and sam gets there faster than that. he walks into the establishment, eyes scanning the crowded place to find your familiar silhouette seated at the bar, your left elbow resting on the counter and holding a rag and plastic bag filled with ice to your head. he rushes towards you, swiftly maneuvering between tables and moving bodies.

he says your name a few steps before he reaches you, as to not startle you, placing a worried hand on your shoulder blade when you turn to look at him. he sucks in a sharp breath when he sees your face. there’s drying blood streaking down the side of your face, and your eyes betray that you’re much more shaken by the incident than you were letting on over the phone. he curses your talent in sounding much more okay than you really are. his jaw clenches and his eyes are worried and angry.

“who did this to you?” his voice is rough, the words forced out through gritted teeth as he fights to stay gentle. you sigh at his words, able to tell immediately how angry he’s feeling.

“he’s gone now,” you say gently, secretly relishing in how protective he is of you. you instantly feel safer, much more secure with him in front of you. “i’m okay,” you say, knowing he needs to hear those words. “i promise. you know that head wounds always look worse than they are. and i wasn’t lying when i said that my glare scared him completely off.”

sam wants to tell you that he’s going to find this sorry excuse of a man, that he’s going to yell at him and hurt him and show him how horrible of a mistake he made by messing with you, but he won’t say all of that. though he’ll certainly think it. he is thinking it. but he knows that’s not what you care to hear, knows that anger is not the face you wish for him to wear.

“i believe that,” he finally settles on saying, voice softening just a little. “let’s get out of here. clean you up. there’s blood all over your face.”

you nod. another time you might quip ‘i know. it’s my face, i can feel it.’ today, you just let him place his hand on the small of your back and lead you out to the familiar black car. neither of you have to say anything to agree that you’ll come back for your own car in the morning.

sam’s silence is large, and yours is heavy. they stretch alongside each other, running out on the road with the spinning tires and escaping through the half open windows so that when sam sits you down on the edge of your shared bed, they’ve almost run out. each silence lasts until he sits next to you, first aid kit in hand, and he gently cups your face to turn it towards him. your eyes are a little shiny, and his face softens.

“i’m sorry this happened,” he whispers. “i shouldn’t have left you alone.” that’s when it hits you how guilty he’s been feeling this whole time, thinking about how nothing would’ve happened if he stayed.

“no,” you shake your head. “no, sam, this wasn’t your fault.” your voice is full of conviction as you say this, because it’s true. “you couldn’t have known this would happen. you only left because you know that i can take care of myself, and i did. i took care of it, and it’s over now. and i’m okay.”

“honey,” he chides, wishing you’d admit to him how you really feel. though he might start crying himself if he has to keep looking at you with so much blood on your face, so he takes the wet cloth he prepared in the bathroom and begins to gently wipe at your bloodied skin. the redness comes off easily, but he still hates the sight of it on the white cloth. “just because we deal with monsters and demons and horrible shit all the time doesn’t mean that creepy, pushy men are any less gross and scary than they really are. just because you can deal with it, doesn’t mean you should’ve had to.”

you purse your lips, then swallow against tears. the feeling of that man’s hand grabbing your wrist hard is still so visceral, and the way that you’d been so taken by surprise that his strength sent you sprawling to the floor still makes you feel sort of embarrassed. and sam’s soft hands and gentle reassurances are so contrasting, so good to you that it makes you a little emotional. 

unconsciously, your own hand drifts to the opposite wrist where the man grabbed you, the sleeve of your dress shirt wrinkled and skin tender from how strong his grip was. the movement catches sam’s eye, and his gaze darkens once again when he realizes how you were grabbed. you see the anger and guilt resurface on his features and you gently grab his wrist instead.

with confidence, you guide his hand to yours and hold it there, looking him right in the eye. your eyes swim with faith and sincerity as you wordlessly tell him that you trust his hands on you, on the places where you’re bruised and bloody.

“it’s okay,” you say, voice hushed and assured. “this… it’s enough, sam. it’s all i need.” just these few words tell him that you don’t care that he wasn’t there when it happened, that his care and comfort in this moment are enough to make it better. that his understanding and worry and protectiveness still mean so much. that things happen, but you’ll be okay so long as he’s there to hold you in the aftermath.

so he does just that. he cleans and dresses your wound, and holds you close on the edge of the bed until you ask to go to sleep. then he holds you under the covers, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and whispering sweet things, until there’s nothing but soft darkness and his touch left, and you’re asleep.

[studiogrimm810]

Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts

pairings/characters: sam winchester x gn!you, dean is also there

summary: after a long day of driving with the brothers, you and dean drink too much and when dean goes off with a random woman, sam takes care of you

warnings: fluff, alcohol, intoxication

word count: 2,970

A/N: fluff is so not usually my thing just fyi, i'm a whore for angst and hurt/comfort haha (also might make a part 2 for the hangover lol)

(edit: i made a part 2!! Sober After-Thought)

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“I’m just saying, it wouldn’t kill us to call the drive early and settle in for the night,” Dean suggested, filling up Baby with fresh gas, leaning against the trunk. Sam had gotten out to stretch his legs and you just came back out from the bathroom.

“Really, Dean, you’re calling it?” You scoff lightly as you come into earshot, your hands in your jacket pockets. “Ya gettin’ old on me?” You joke, bumping his shoulder.

Dean rolls his eyes, pushing off of the trunk as the nozzle clanks closed, signaling the tank is full, “shut up,” he mumbles. “I saw a bar a few blocks back with a motel in the same parking lot and I could use a drink,” he explains, holstering the nozzle back into the gas pump and finishing up.

“I could use a drink,” you nod curtly as you walk around to the back seat. Sam seems reluctant but not completely against it.

“Yeah- okay,” Sam shrugs, climbing into the car. Dean has a tiny moment of celebration with the pump of his fist as he drives off and back to the direction of the motel to check in.

The motel is a classic semi-run down spot that’s in desperate need of a power wash but seems like its paint-chipped siding would dissolve away at the pressure. It’s not perfect but it’s cheap.

Dean goes into the lobby to grab a room while you and Sam get your bags and meet Dean at the chosen room.

You set your bags on the couch, hoping it’s a pull out.

“Hey, you don’t have to take the couch, have one of the beds,” Sam insists, walking up next to you and setting his own bags on the couch.

“It’s okay, really,” you assure, knowing he would be far too uncomfortable cramped on the couch. You plop down onto a free spot and stretch out with a yawn “see-?” you say through your yawn “already comfy enough to sleep,” you smile simply up at him, hoping he’ll settle and just take the bed. He was obviously struggling with just going with it and also wanting to let you be more comfortable but he also knew how stubborn you were so he just dropped it.

“If you change your mind you better tell me,” he points a loose finger at you and grabs his bags back up again to lug them over to the motel bed. Dean had claimed the other bed with his own bags.

“Either of ya comin’ with me?” Dean asked, straightening his jacket and fixing his necklace. He looked between you and Sam waiting for a response.

“Hells yeah,” you nod and stand back up, “just let me freshen up a bit,” you grab your smaller bag and head to the bathroom to fix yourself up a bit, brushing your hair and adjusting your accessories. From inside the bathroom you hear Sam also agree to go out and a flutter of nerves ripple through your stomach in excitement.

Heading back out, Dean's head lifts to greet you and check to see if you’re ready. You nod softly and the three of you head out.

It’s pretty chilly out, but you thankfully had a jacket to shield yourself from the cold. Sam looked over to your direction, checking to make sure you looked warm enough for the short walk to the bar.

The bar is just like any dive bar, not as beat up as the motel you three were staying in but definitely hosting the same general demographic of drifters and truckers. A few people looked your way when you entered the bar, but it was simple side glances and such.

A few beers in and the brothers are telling you a story about some case they worked a few weeks back involving Sam's horrid fear of clowns and how he ended up bloody and covered in glitter. Sam seemed embarrassed and a little annoyed but you saw the smile that he hid behind his beer bottle as he took a swig.

“I swear- he looked like he was attacked by some PCP crazed strippers,” Dean cackled, doubling over enough to hold his stomach. You laughed as well, the image alone enough to make you chuckle.

“Oh- Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Sam,” you laughed a little harder trying to get out your words, “I can’t even- I can’t  even imagine how scary that was for you, but-” your words are chopped up by the seizing laughter rumbling your chest. As you both start to cool down, Sam looks at both you and Dean with a small smile and his eyebrows raised, silently asking ‘ya done?’.

“Sammy and his clowns, poor kid,” Dean clamps his hand on Sam’s shoulder and takes another swig of his beer. Sam rolls his eyes and finishes off his drink.

The three of you occupied a high table in the middle of the bar dining room, sharing a plate of chips and dip.

“Whatever,” Sam stands and shakes his head, “I would offer another round but neither of you deserve it,” he jokes and walks back up to the bar leaving you and Dean trying to recover from your fits of laughter.

“And you didn’t get a picture?” You ask, leaning back into your regular sitting position but still letting the afterwaves of humor shake your shoulders.

“No, but it’s engraved in my brain,” Dean shakes his head, a wide smile still blessing his lips and lighting up his face.

“I really wanted another round too,” you lift your bottle and shake the little liquid still left in it. Dean polishes his beer off and shrugs as he stands.

“I gotchya, sweetheart,” Dean heads to the bar with Sam, holding up two fingers to signal for two more beers. Dean bumps Sam's shoulder as he leans on the bar but you can’t hear what they’re saying.

When the brothers return, Dean sets your beer down in front of you and takes his own seat back. 

You all continue to talk and laugh and share stories as you get a few more rounds deep. The words seem to flow out easier as you’re telling a story of some hunt where you worked with this base-level hunter who had no clue what he was doing. You didn’t necessarily hate the guy but he did almost get you killed over a rookie mistake. You find it somewhat humorous due to the little respect you may have for your own life but Sam doesn't find it as funny. Dean entertains the story as you’re telling it- lighthearted and passive- but on the inside he feels his own pit of rage for the stranger who basically used you as bait.

“What’s his name again? I could use a punching bag for some practice,” Dean says as a joke but both you and Sam know he meant his words.

“He was a newbie, he learned, but he’s not hunting anymore- thank god,” you chuckle softly and take a swig of your drink.

Sam has stopped drinking but you and Dean continue to work off of each other, getting round after round and when Dean suggests shots, you’re completely game.

“Maybe you guys should slow down,” Sam suggested, acutely aware of both of your intoxicated states.

“Maybe you should speed up, Sammy, let loose!” Dean shoves Sam’s hand from his shoulder and goes to get a round of shots.

“‘Scuse me,” you slur, standing with a slight sway but desperately needing to use the restroom.

“Woah, you okay there?” Sam stands with you and holds out his arms.

“I’m fine, pretty boy, just wait here for me,” you smile and rub a hand up his bicep, squeezing slightly and pushing off of him to walk towards the bathrooms.

You didn’t see the blush that powders his cheeks.

The bathroom was pretty unclean but you didn’t feel squeamish due to your state. As you pass the mirror you catch a glimpse of yourself and you lock eyes with your own and- holy shit are you drunk.

Your head feels like it’s spinning and your limbs are buzzing with what you would say felt like your blood rushing but honestly you’re just shitfaced. Your eyes, however, are level and a little lidded as they look back at you and help ground yourself. You lean into the sink to get a closer look in the mirror and examine your face a bit but soon get bored and do what you came in here to do in the first place.

When you finish up, you head back to your table only to find two of the three shots empty and a wad of cash on the center of the table. Your head tilts in confusion as you finish your stride to the table.

“Hey- there you are!” Sam chuckled nervously, relieved to see you. You spin to face him, your head still cocked to the side, “Dean went off with someone he met so I think it’s safe to say we won’t see him until the morning. He paid the bill,” Sam ticked his head to the pile of cash on the table and you turned to look back at it- your head stopped at a respectable spot to view the table again but you felt like your brain just kept spinning.

“You took your time in there, you okay?” Sam asks, placing his hand on your lower back to steady you. Your stomach ripples again with nerves and your cheeks flush with heat but you blame it on the alcohol.

“Mhmm, just peachy,” you smile up at him, your brain whipping the opposite direction as you do so. You groan softly at the disorientation and feel another hand on your hip.

“Okay, I’m taking you back to the motel,” Sam said, keeping his hold on you and leaning over to grab his jacket.

“‘M fine, Sammy,” you shrug, climbing back up in your chair and reaching for the last shot. Sam's hand shoots out to grab the glass before you can.

“Nope, nuh-uh, I’m cutting you off,” he chuckles softly, setting the glass on the other side of the table with a light clank. You pout and rest your chin in your hand.

“Boring…” You draw out, letting your eyes flutter closed, relishing the feeling of floating over ocean waves like a piece of kelp.

“I know I am, c’mon,” he wraps his arm around your shoulders and gently guides you to stand with him and you stumble out of the chair but his sturdy arms keep you straight.

Your mind is still swaying so you lean into Sam and focus on how your skin tingles with his passive warmth. That warmth, however, is quickly washed away as you two exit the bar into the cold night air. The chill bites at your nose and the apples of your cheeks.

As you’re walking, your stomach aches so you wrap an arm around your torso with a subtle whine. Sam’s eyebrows pinch and he looks down at you.

“You okay?” He asks stopping for a moment to look down at you. You nod softly but make no move to continue walking. “You shouldn’t have tried to keep up with Dean,” he jokes lightly, rubbing his thumb on our shoulder where his hold is sturdy and reliable.

“God, too much alcohol,” you mumble, leaning your head completely into Sam and snaking your arm around his torso. Yet again- you miss the blush that paints his skin like a rose. He smiles softly and pulls you in a little closer, his embrace around your protective and careful.

“You’ll be okay, I’ve gotchya,” Sam continues walking slowly, giving you time to put your feet into motion. His eyes dart from your feet up to the path in front of them and then instinctively around the area for anything unseemly.

You both finally make it to the motel room and you quickly crumble into your previous spot on the couch with a loud ‘hmph’. You can hear Sam moving around the room for a few minutes and then he crouches next to you.

“You sure you still don’t want my bed?” Sam nudges you softly and you just nod- in your mind you're nodding because you want the bed and thankfully Sam knows what you mean so he just chuckles softly. “Okay, let me help you up, you look so uncomfortable,” he says sweetly- he’s so sweet.

He pulls you up and the room spins, it just keeps spinning and you’re really starting to regret that last drink- or two. Sam can tell by the look on your face that you’re struggling.

“You’re okay,” he steadies you, “just take a moment, I won’t let you fall,” he waits patiently for you to be okay enough to take another step and doesn’t push. A small nod rocks your vision, but it signals that you're good enough to walk. Sam guides you to his bed and lifts up the blankets for you and you slump down onto the spot and Sam keeps his arms out as a guard rail for you.

The feeling of your shoes still hugging your feet is unreasonably uncomfortable so you try to kick them off but only manage to scrape your ankles in the process.

“Here, let me help you,” Sam doesn’t hesitate to gently grab your calf and lift your foot to help unlace your shoes. His hands are quick as he unties the laces and slips off your shoes, sticking them neatly by the bedside table. “You feelin’ okay?” He looks up at you, taking in your appearance and trying to gauge your mental presence in the moment. You just shake your head with a small pout of pain and disorientation. “You need water,” he says, quietly enough for you to think he was just talking to himself, standing and walking to the sink provided in the motel's kitchenette.

It’s really a coin-toss if you’re swaying or not while you’re sitting on the bed.

The humorous expression of a half-laugh and half-cringe on Sam's face makes you think you’re swaying.

He sits on Dean’s bed, across from you, holding out the glass to you, “Here.”

You take the glass and down most of it in a few deep gulps, the scratch of the ice cold water against your alcoholic tongue and throat feel painfully refreshing- like chugging a sprite.

“Careful,” Sam coos softly, reaching up to try and get your hand to tilt the glass back and away from your mouth so you can take a breath. He successfully gets the glass back in his grasp and sets it on the side table. “You should get some sleep,” he speaks again, his voice low and smooth- velvety like chocolate.

“Tummy hurts,” you groan, placing your hand back on your stomach. Sam chuckles softly.

“I bet,” he nods and clasps his hands together, leaning on his knees. You push back some of your hair from your face and let your eyes laze shut, “C’mon, you need to sleep,” he stands with a soft grunt and lifts the blankets so you can slide your legs under the covers. Your body feels weighed as you melt into the mattress, letting the pillow puff up and around to frame your face as you drop your head into it suddenly.

Sam pulls up the covers, laying them flat along your body to make sure you're evenly warm and comfortable.

“Do you need anything?” Sam asks, gazing down at you lovingly- you blame your intoxication for romanticizing his pretty eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmur, staring up at him lovingly, and no amount of alcohol could erase or demote that emotion from your eyes.

Sam stops for a moment, looking down at you with a fallen expression, not of disappointment or uncertainty, but of confusion- and maybe a spark of hope?

“You’re drunk,” he sighs softly, smiling down at you sadly as he tries to keep his own feelings in check.

“Doesn’t make me a liar,” you slur, snuggling further into the bed and still looking up at him. You almost would say there was a look of awful sadness shimmering in his eyes- something deep rooted and dreadful.

His eyes dip down and away from your face, thinking about something you can’t quite interpret.

“You’re sweet,” you continue, closing your own eyes which make Sam comfortable enough to look back up at you- sweet puppy-dog eyes that could almost pierce through your closed eyelids. “And strong- really strong,” you giggle drunkenly, nestling your head into the pillow to settle in and sleep.

You don’t say anything else for a moment and Sam just lets his eyes drift over your face, taking in your unique features. His hand reaches out to hold your own before he can stop himself, squeezing it softly.

“Th-thank you f’ not leaving me,” you grumble, half-asleep. Sam’s head tilt is in confusion and his hold on your hand tightens slightly.

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“The bar- at the bar,” you yawn with a small hum of contentment, “Like I said, sweet.”

Sam doesn’t really know how to respond- why would you think you owed him a ‘thanks’? What are you even thanking him for?

“You don’t have to thank me,” he settled on his response as he shook his head, running his thumb along your knuckles.

Your prolonged silence signaled to him that you were passed out and he chuckled quietly, knowing you desperately needed the rest.

He lifted your hand slowly and placed a chaste kiss to your knuckles. “Get some rest, beautiful,” he whispered, setting your hand back down and taking one last look at your restful face before standing to get ready for bed himself.

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thank you so much for reading!! <3

>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest) >>check out my other works here

[notpixl]

Realizing they’re in love with you! HSR Edition

(Ft. Robin, Acheron, Blackswan, Feixiao)

Y’all this came up to me while in class the voices told me to write this okay or else they’ll delete my accounts 🥲

Also, Beauty amidst Death will have an update. I’m just cringing at the fact that I decided leave it in strange place and am wondering how to continue it…

GN!Reader as usual. I want all sides to be happy

—————

———

—————

Robin

It’s… weird?

Well, she does get the usual fans declaring their love to her and all but somehow you’re different??? Like what-

Nowadays, whenever you two hug she’s always a blushing mess! And how come she just noticed that you’re… really, really close…

Too close…

There’s like this feeling on her stomach whenever you two are together. It doesn’t matter if it’s a call, a meetup, or just hanging out! It… It’s always there!

And whenever your name is mentioned her ears perk up! Like… what did do you to her?!

Eventually she’ll consult about these feelings with Sunday but he just chuckles it off, leaving her to guess what it is. (At least give her a hint!)

Though the answer would come knocking at her door

It was a simple gift

From you

There’s a little note etched into the cover

“For someone that means so much to me :)”

Opening it revealed a pretty little necklace

With a Dove as its Pendant

…come to think of it don’t they represent something?

She’s sure it was something about…

Peace…

Freedom…

And Love!

Wait…

Love…?

Oh

Oh

She slowly covers her face in embarrassment

Why… did it take her so long to figure this out?!

Aeons, she’s so dumb!

“All this time I was in love with them…”

Acheron

She’s met many people

Countless if you will

But why…?

Why is it that in this ever current flow of forgetting and remembering…

She just can’t seem to forget your lovely face?

She’ll rush to the libraries, read the news, heck, even threaten ask the greatest philosophers on what this feeling means!

Perhaps that Memokeeper knows something…?

Oh forget it!

She’ll tackle this head-on!

…by asking you herself.

“Ah… so that’s it is… Love.”

Black Swan

Hmm… what a quaint feeling she’s having when you’re around

Love, isn’t it?

She’s only seen and heard about it… but not once has she ever had the chance to have a feel…

…would you reciprocate these feeling as well?

Although that possibility comes in mind…

She’d rather hear it from you than face the harsh reality of rejection

Then again…

Would her as a whole be enough?

She’s never considered using her body to charm someone, let alone the person she has come to love…

Perhaps…

Perhaps you will

“The possibilities are endless… but I’ll never stop it from blooming.”

Feixiao

She’s rather perplexed

Wait- no… yeah no that actually works-

All it takes was one glance during her walk and now she’s stumbling on her way to work with this… strange feeling

There’s no point in running away, she already has Moze tracking you down

She’d talk to Jiaoqiu about this, only receiving a shrug and scraps of determination to “find it out herself.”

Cheeky Foxian…

Hmm…

Maybe she should ask from the source itself?

———

You lay in bed, already done with today’s schedule when you notice a shift in weight on your waist

Your eyes hesitate to open

“That’s not a good way to greet guests, isn’t it?”

Moving won’t help

“Look at me.”

You’re met with such a pair of eyes you can’t even begin to describe them

Scary? Beautiful? I think that shouldn’t be your main concern right now-

“I’ve got a question…”

Her grip tightens on your shoulders

“What did you do to me?”

—————

———

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Um… no comment down here

I hope you enjoyed/hated it

Asks are always open I guess if you want to force me to write and die and sob and and and a sn

[girlboypersonthingy]

Hiiii I wanted to request hazbin boys x injured male reader? Reader gets into a scuffle, gets roughed up quite a bit and comes home not looking too well (I wanna see em fuss over the reader lol)

Mmph, yes yes, I love boys fussing over their injured darling. Too fuckin cute! I have so many great requests for Hazbin and Helluva, I’m so excited 🫨 thanks for the request and enjoy anon 💟

Notes: gn!reader bc anyone can get into a scuffle so why not, mostly fluff with a sprinkle of angst

TW: blood, bruises, fighting, cussing, of course it’s suggestive during Angel’s part 😉

Includes Lucifer, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Vox and Alastor

Hazbin boys x reader- Bruises 🖤

You’re not sure who roughed you up, you barely got a look at the dudes before you were laid out on the dirty sidewalk getting punched and trying to push one of the perpetrators off you. Whoever he was, he was strong and brutal and must’ve really had a problem with you because damn, you were fucked up. Not that you couldn’t hold your own, but there was more than one of them and they really caught you off guard. You had suffered several blows to the face and a few kicks to the stomach and back. Seemed like the group showed just a bit of mercy tho- they could’ve broken your legs or straight up killed you. Luckily, you limped away with only minor injuries but a huge blow to your psyche. While it could’ve been worse, it was horrific and traumatizing regardless.

It’s hard trying to stay tough and take care of yourself because you’re scared, feeling like you’ll have to look over your shoulder from now on when you’re out on the streets. It was also a bit embarrassing considering Husk and Angel offered to tag along with you to keep you safe but your dumb ass insisted you were fine alone.

It was late now, around the time everyone went to bed at the hotel so you were expecting to silently creep inside, hobble to your room and take care of yourself in secret. And if anyone asked about the marks or bruises the next day, you’d just blame it on a wild night of partying. To your surprise, as you walk in the door the entirety of the hotel’s staff and residents were sitting on the floor and couches in the front room, drinking and talking by the fireplace. Of course, Charlie had everyone doing some bonding bullshit late at night. The sound of the door clicking open has everyone’s eyes looking towards you now. “Ah, shit…” Leaves your swollen lips as the crowd gasps and one by one, they all stand and approach your damaged figure. Finally, the one person you really didn’t want to see you like this comes rushing forward to get a good look at you.

Lucifer 🍎

“Oh, Satan! (Y/N), are you okay? What happened? Ohhh, my poor angel!”

Proceeds to fuss and worry over you while wearing the saddest expression :,( his poor bb

Might actually cry a little…just hurts him to see his darling all banged up.

It’s not just the physical pain he senses, it’s the emotional pain you feel too- the fear and the trauma and the stress of it all

His hands just hover all around the most damaged parts of you- fingers almost touching your eye which was now swollen shut, his thumb ghosting over your busted bottom lip

Whisks you away to his room and runs you a bath. Gets you all clean and is probably still whining and crying over you as he watches the bath water turn red with all the blood washing off you and gets you ready for bed.

He’s an emotional man, okay?

He also feels extremely guilty for not being there to protect you. Even if you bluntly told him you don’t need his protection, he feels like it’s still his fault at least a little bit.

Miiiiiiight start a silly little argument over you never leaving the hotel or his side ever again lol

“I just want to protect you, my love. Please! Stop being stubborn.”

He’ll really really baby you tho.

Like even if your legs are working fine, NOPE! Don’t move an inch. Luci will carry you anywhere you desire.

“Lucifer, I just have a black eye and some scrapes. I can walk just fine, babe.”

And he’ll just ignore you and continue to coddle you and do everything for you

For sure this man peppers very gentle, very soft and slow kisses on your tender face once you’re cleaned up and finally resting in his bed

And he for sure cries again in the morning when he wakes up and your face looks even worse

Probably even panics a bit like-

“IM TAKING YOU TO A HOSPITAL OH MY SATAN!!! MY POOR BABY WWAAAA!”

“It’s just some bruises! Luci, they always look worse before they look better, I’m fine.”

Just calm him down with some kisses and words of love

Angel Dust 🕸️

“Holy shit! What happened, babe? Oh no…this is bad. This is sooo bad! This is why we wanted to go with ya.”

Also gets very dramatic and concerned, looks so sad over your battle wounds

But of course he’s a flirt even under tough circumstances and can make a dirty joke even in the most dire situations

He’d definitely tell you you look hot asf and that you’re soooo brave~

Tries to lighten the mood a bit

“(Y/N), I wanna be the only one who gets to rough you up.” *pouts but also winks at you*

Angel has had his fair share of beatings courtesy of Valentino so he’s very good at first aid and knows tons of tricks to help with bruising, cuts, scrapes, preventing scars, relieving the pain.

He’s great at the clean up part but even better at the comfort part

Brings out all six arms to wrap you up in while you lay in his bed, cuddling up to you while offering soft kisses to the parts of you that aren’t so sore.

Angel is always down to fuck so if you’re feeling up to it, he’ll offer you some great sexual healing while being oh so careful of all your wounds and all the painful spots.

Will let you take control too, he hopes it’ll make you feel better and maybe return some of the confidence you lost from this scuffle.

He can spot a bruised ego from a mile away and he’ll do anything to get you feeling happy and secure again.

Also argues with you about never letting you go anywhere alone ever again lol he just loves you too much. If you’re gonna get jumped, he’s either gonna be there to help you out of it or he’s gonna be taking half the beating right next to you.

Reminds me of a song…

“I wanna walk with you, wherever you go to. I wanna hurt with you. Whatever you go through, I do too.” -sour switchblade by Elita

Yeah that’s Angel, just wants to be beside you no matter the circumstances

Husk 🃏

“Oh, you dummy! This is why we wanted to go with you. Oh, doll face. Who did this? You alright?”

Yeah, he’s mean sometimes so he’s gonna scold you for going out alone before the comforting starts.

Ultimately, he doesn’t pull you away to get you cleaned up or anything. Lets you decide what to do next, where to go. He just follows you and keeps a hand on you somewhere to let you know he’s here for you.

Will whip up any drink you ask for in hopes of it relieving the pain a bit

But he’s sneaky, he’s gonna ask you tons of questions about what happened, who did it, where you were, how many of them there was. Won’t give you your drink until you answer him.

Husk is plottin and schemin, wanting to get back at the assholes who did this to you. Hes thinking about all the cool, little weapons he has and what he can do with them to teach those jerks a lesson.

In the end tho, he does get more sentimental and soft spoken later while cuddled up to you in bed.

He’ll purr softly in your ear while letting his hands gently roam your body, tracing comforting circles all over your bruised skin

Will def wrap you up in his silky wings and then proceed to pour out his entire heart to you.

“I love you. I’m so glad you’re okay. You need to listen to me. I know better than you, I’ve been down here a long time. You have to be more careful. I dunno what I’d do if I lost ya, doll. You gotta stick with me, I’ll always protect ya.”

Once you fall asleep, he wanders out to the lobby to find Angel at the bar and there they talk about teaming up to get revenge on the assholes who dared to touch Husk’s little babe

The next morning, of course they’re still talking about it. You’ll have to tell these idiots to stop and just let it go bc omg they sound crazy rn they’re gonna make a mess if you let this continue

Buuuut if you kinda like them fussing over you this much, then by all means let them do their thing as you sit back and enjoy the attention

Ooooh, Husky is getting maadddd. Kinda cute when he lets a protective growl slip out while talking to Angel. Aww he loves you~

Sir Pentious 🐍

Immediate tears and full blown panic attack at the sight of your battered face.

“OH MY GOODNESSSSSS!!! My baby! My darling! Ohhhhhh, you poor thing, come here! I’ll take care of you.”

Doesn’t care that the entirety of the hotel residents are crowded around watching you two- Pentious holds you like a baby in his arms and carefully sinks to the ground with you, holding you so tight it actually kinda hurts due to all your bruises.

Cries for a while like this- goes back and forth between examining your bruises and cuts and bloody nose with his watery eyes to then burying his face in your neck as he weeps for you.

“Pen, I’m okay. Just a little banged up. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“I CAN’T HANDLE IT!!! You’re too pretty to be beaten up like thisssss. Aawwwww.” And he’s crying even harder now.

And this goes on for a while until you finally decide to get up and go to your room with him to get cleaned up.

Babies the absolute fuck out of you- brings you food in bed and tries to feed it to you, gets you in the bath and refuses to let you touch anything while insisting he do all the work for you, carries you everywhere.

It’s actually so nice tho- he washes your hair for you real slow and firm as he scrubs your scalp, very carefully washes the dirt and dry blood from your skin only to reveal more bruises he hadn’t seen before, carefully applies ointment to your bloody cuts and scrapes

Listen…this man is not gonna stop crying until you are 100% healed up. Even the next morning, you wake up beside him to see his face wet with tears as he sniffles.

At least you know he really truly deeply cares for you and loves you 💚

“Oh, it’s okay, babe. I’m felling so much better today, especially since I get to start my morning in bed with you.”

And now he decides he’s gonna keep you in bed all day and continue to baby and pamper you

Keeps his tail and most of his body wrapped around you loosely all day as you watch movies and relax. Cant stop staring at your face and focusing on each blue and black bruise you wear, eyeing every cut and scrape and the split skin on your lip.

You took a beating and he thinks it’s only fair that you and him stay in bed until you’re truly feeling well enough to resume your normal daily tasks.

Of course, he has to stay with you in case you need something! Can’t leave his injured partner alone, wouldn’t dream of it!

Vox 🖥️

(I know he’s not at the hotel, pretend you just walked into V Tower instead, k?)

REVENGE REVENGE REVENGE

“WHAT. THE. FUCK?! Who? Where? When? HOW FUCKING HOW DARE THEY-“

You’ll have to cut him off or he’ll go on an entire raging tangent about revenge and eventually short circuit lol

“Voxy, I’m okay. Don’t worry about it. I just wanna get clean and go to bed.”

He slowly cools off and begins to focus more on you and your injuries, asking if you’re okay or if there’s anything he can do. Now behind closed doors, his entire attitude changes.

He’s following you into every room, watching you with an expression of intense sadness and concern, wishing he could take all your pain and give it to himself instead. He’d suffer for you if it meant seeing you happy and healthy

Sits in the bathroom in silence but keeps you company while you wash up. He might ask if you need help but also wants to give you space and make sure you feel safe

Assists you in getting dressed while making it very romantic and being very attentive. Vox will so slowly slip your pajamas onto you while letting his claws ghost over all your bruises.

Will lean in and kiss your busted lips right as your head pops through the top of your shirt, followed by a smile and probably more kisses

Listen, most of these boys are gonna become way more over protective after this incident okay? Vox is most definitely not an exception

Insists that either He’s gonna be with you every where you go from now on or he’s gonna send security with you every where you go from now on.

And no matter who is with you when you’re out in the streets, his cameras will also be watching over you.

Oh yeah, and he goes back in the cam footage and has a perfect view of the whole incident. He watches it over a few times before ordering a hit on every sinner who dared to mess with his lover.

You’ll never have to worry or look over your shoulder or worry again 😘

Alastor 🩸

Doesn’t say much or even stay long to worry about you at first.

He’s more angry and bent on revenge than anything. He’s worried about you too but he knows you’re strong and can take care of yourself.

He slips off to do some exploring and investigating to find out who did this to you

Spends maybe an hour figuring it out and then promptly goes on a murder spree to take care of all those pesky sinners who dared to lay a finger on his beloved

Okay, now that that’s out of his system, he can come back and take care of you.

Isn’t as cuddly and romantic as the others but he still babies you and refuses to let you do anything for yourself.

“Now now, darling. Just relax. I’ll have you cleaned up and feeling better in no time.”

Bathes you, dresses you, tucks you into bed all while humming slow tunes to you

Doesn’t cuddle you but sits on the bed beside you and gives your head some gentle pets

“You won’t have to worry any longer, my dove. I took care of those degenerates and I’ll never let you wander the streets of hell alone ever again.”

Will place a gentle kiss on your throbbing head before leaving you to rest.

He’s serious tho, anywhere you go he goes too. You’re never leaving his sight again ❤️‍🩹

[gojos-fr-bae]

BET

Pairing: Bakugou x gn!reader (pls lmk if I messed something up)

Warnings: Angst to fluff. Cussing. Bakugo kinds ooc idk really but pls lmk if I missed something

Word Count: 883

A/N: Tee-hee~~, didn't see this coming did ya?

(Requests open)

You were walking through the dorms looking for your boyfriend Bakugou, you two were supposed to go out and watch a movie. Walking through the halls, you heard his voice booming from Kaminari’s room, the door slightly ajar. You placed your hand on the doorknob with the intention of opening it when you heard your name being mentioned.

“So, how are things going with you and y/n huh? Someone asked, though from his voice you could tell it was probably Kirishima.

“That’s none of your fucking business stupid hair. And sparky! WHERE’S MY FUCKING MONEY! The deal was that I date them and you all pay me 1k!!” Bakugou shouted at Kaminari

“Oh come on, you’re still on that? That was so long ago?”

“A BET’S A FUCKING BET YOU IDIOT, I’M DATING Y/N AREN’T I? SO FUCKING GIVE ME MY MONEY! A BET’S A BET!”

“I was a bet?” you whispered softly, and yet still loudly enough for the three guys in the room to hear. They all looked up at you with mortified expressions.

“Fuck y/n-”Bakugou tried to speak up but you cut him off.

“Is that all I was to you?!! A FUCKING BET!?” It all made sense now. Bakugou had always so harsh to you and you always just assumed that it was his personality, but no. Of course not.

“Y/N please, hear me out-”

“No! FUCK NO!, WHY SHOULD I?! Bakugou did this past year mean nothing to you?! EVERYTHING WE’VE BEEN THROUGH! IT MEANS NOTHING HUH?! FUCK YOU KATSUKI BAKUGOU! FUCK YOU!””

Tears were streaming endlessly down your face as you turned around and ran to your dorm room. You could hear Bakugou running behind you but you didn’t care, slamming the door in his face.

He began to bang on your door, calling out for you but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen. You ran to your bed, buried your head in your pillow and cried your guts out. You really loved him. You really, truly did.And you thought he loved you too, but it looks like you were wrong.

~

It's been a day and your phone has been blowing up with texts and missed calls from your worried friends and now ex boyfriend.

BAKUGOU

5:43 pm

Baby 

Baby please listen to me 

11:24 pm

I promise I can explain

Please just listen to me

I love you, I promise you weren't just a bet

Please Y/N, Please!

2:23 am

My love just talk to me, I can explain

Littered in between those texts were over 20 missed calls. He had filled your voicemail with begs and professions of love but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen anymore.

Just as you were shutting your phone off, you were met with frantic knocking. You were about to shout at Bakugou to go away when you were meant with the voices of his two best friends.

“ Y/N, It’s Kaminari and Kirishima, please open the door, we have something to say.” Kaminari said softly through the door.

“GO AWAY!” You shouted back, voice hoarse from all the crying.

“Y/N Please, just let us talk to you and then you can do whatever you want. We just want to fix our mistake.” 

You sighed, dragging yourself and opened the door, ready to go off on them, but were silenced by the distress on their faces. They quickly made their way into your room and you closed the door behind them.

“Please make it quick” you said in annoyance, as they began to ramble back and forth

“Ok, please just hear us out.” Kirishima started.

“So, like a while back, Bakugou had a HUGE  crush on you.”

“So we made a bet with him”

“We told him to ask and we’ll pay him” okay, now they are losing you..

“Guys wha-”

“Listen, listen, listen, we didn’t do it to embarrass you.”

“We did it because we knew he wouldn’t have the balls to ask you out otherwise.”

“But he loves you Y/N, Bakugou FUCKING loves you.”

“Things only got messed up because of the bet we made with him.”

“Right now he’s a fucking mess”

“He was crying for hours and now he’s not talking, eating…”

“He locked us out of his dorm and isn’t talking to anyone.” 

You didn’t let them finish their rant and ran to Katsuki’s drom.You started to knock but were met with silence.

“Suki, please open the door.” You heard a bunch of rustling and the door swung open violently.

Your heart broke as you looked at Bakugou. His hair was a mess and his eyes were red and swollen from all the crying. 

You leapt into his hands and hugged him tight. He wrapped his hand around you and cried. He kept on muttering apologies over and over again. It was going to be okay, you two will be okay.

BONUS!!:

You two were laying in his bed as he rested his head on your chest, listening to your heart beat.

“So…you had a crush on me~~” you asked him

“If you don’t shut up right now I will fucking murder you.” he whispered, before snuggling deeper into you.”

“Sure honey, you do that.”

He was absolutely killing those two idiots.

Hiiiiiii~~ So I tried sum newww, let me know how you feel abt it. also, is it Bakugou or Bakugo because every time I pu Bakugo it auto corrects to Bakugou

© gojos-fr-bae

[eyelessfaces]

uncalled for

summary: you get quite upset when poe "saves" your assigned mission by giving orders to your teams without consulting you; poe is determined to fix his mistake.

warnings: (public) arguing, talks of the future; family and having kids

tags: gn!reader, angst, being parents to bb8, fluff, this ends up being real sweet tbh

word count: 1.7k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

(uh yeah I'm back if you even noticed I was gone lol. I might just post this and disappear again for a little longer idk but anyways I'll explain the reason whenever I'm back for good; I'm okay don't worry, and I'm still gonna post fics don't worry it's nothing too serious fr)

It causes a disruption when you both barge into the hangar; despite the constant clattering and whirring of tools and material there, both your bitter shoutings have been overlapping the sounds ever since Poe started following you closely, right from the moment you hastily jumped out of your x wing to try to forget about the awful management of your mission that would probably cost you to never get to lead one again. 

“It was my call, not yours” you affirm bitterly, voice dripping with resentment, your steps heavy and hurried as you try to shake Poe off but he is anything if not persevering, so it only manages to piss you off even more and fuel your frustration. “I didn’t need you to save my mission or whatever,” you exclaim, causing heads to turn as you walk across the large room, barely minding what is going on around you. 

“I did because I knew it would work!” Poe tries to explain, still heeling you closely. “I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t sure it would be successful” he declares louder than he needs to, thrown off when you suddenly stop in your steps, turning to him.

“So you think you can make decisions for me? You think I can’t do it, can’t command a mission correctly?” you rhetorically ask, revolted, sighing a profanity under your breath before you storm off again, your steps resonating with frustration. Poe sighs and winces before he follows you again, taking a hold of your arm.

“Babe come on you know that’s not–”

You stop again, your patience running short. “You had no right to encroach on my orders, I knew what I had to do, and you stepping in with your own instructions could have blown the whole mission up!” you call out, pressing a finger to his chest. 

It’s when you finally take a moment to take a look at his face that you realize it, what is going on; you are being the center of attention, the little show everyone stopped their current task to sit and watch, your every word carefully awaited by your unwanted audience. 

You sigh softly, taking a moment to step back from the situation. “Now leave me alone before we embarrass ourselves further or before I tell you things I don’t really mean just because I’m angry and don’t wanna talk to you” you hiss softly before leaving Poe in the middle of the busy room where he watches you walk away, helplessly standing there. 

When he looks around him, most people turn away and avert their gazes to pretend they haven’t witnessed anything, and Poe is well too aware of the tension still lingering in the air even as you exit the room.

When Jessika climbs down from her ladder after watching the scene from her cockpit, BB-8 rolls over to her and chirps sadly, having observed yours and Poe’s argument from afar just like most of the hangar after his master went running after you. She kneels down to the droid’s level, giving him a sympathetic smile.

“That’s gonna be fine Beebs, they always end up figuring it out somehow” she affirms as the droid’s upper part sinks in distress accompanied by saddened beeps. Jessika can’t help but smile fondly at him and his obvious concern, at the fact that he quite literally acts like you are his parents.

—

A few hours have passed when Poe joins you again; you don't notice him at first, having made sure to get focused enough on your paperwork to forget about the whole situation and try to ease the frustration within you. It's only when you put your datapad down that you see him leaning against the door frame.

“You're so pretty when you're focused” he smiles gently when your eyes meet his figure, causing you to roll your eyes and reluctantly smile at his words despite your lingering frustration. 

“I’m still mad at you,” you sigh softly as you try to hide your slight smirk, gaze darting back down to enter numbers into your datapad.

He acknowledges your feelings with a nod, his lips pressed together in a tight line. “I know.” he admits, stepping into the room. “That’s why I’m here” You look back up at him, taking a deep breath as you set your datapad aside; despite the fact that everything he did since you wrapped your mission up got on your nerves, deep down you only wish for this to situation to get figured out and eventually be behind the both of you. You join him in front of your desk, leaning against it.

“I knew what I was doing. I was handling it” you affirm before he even gets the chance to do so much as open his mouth.

He holds a hand up to slow you down. “I know,” he nods understandingly. “I shouldn’t have redirected the plan, I should have trusted you. I was just afraid things would go wrong considering how it was all starting to go down so quickly” he explains. “I know I could have fucked it all up, everything you put in place so the mission could go right” you slightly tilt your head to the side in agreement. 

“And I know my move was probably a lot more dangerous than the plan you had in mind to make everything right but you know I would never put you or our teams in danger, only myself” he declares with a concerned nod, causing your expression to soften. “You, never. I would never risk it, no matter what” there’s a soft frown over his face as his eyes flicker with sincerity, his confession making your heart ache as it hangs in the air before he talks again. “And I never doubted your ability to command a mission.” 

You nod with a heavy sigh, acknowledging his apology. “I should apologize too. I shouldn't have lashed out on you like that either.” you admit and nod sheepishly, reflecting on your impulsive behavior. “I really wanted this mission to go right”

“For what it’s worth,” he starts with a small smile, trying to dissimulate a bigger one. “I talked about it with Leia and she thinks you did pretty good” his declaration doesn’t fail to draw an appreciative smile from you, one that makes him mirror your action. “And she thinks we would work great together”

“And I agree,” you reply, finally feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as the tension between you begins to dissipate. “We do make a good team.”

Poe’s smile widens, relieved to see you loosen up a bit. “Yeah, we do” he agrees with a small huff, stepping closer to you. “I just hate seeing you so worked up.”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “I hate getting worked up,” you scoff. 

“I’ll try to think about it twice next time,” Poe promises, reaching out to gently take your hand in his. “I don’t want to step on your toes or make you feel like I don’t trust you or your judgment.”

Your fingers intertwine with his, the warmth of his touch calming you further. “Well I’ll try not to snap at you,” you promise in return, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze as you let your head rest against his chest with a small, barely audible sigh. “Especially not in front of everyone,” you mutter, earning an amused chuckle from him. You melt into his touch as he leans to press a gentle kiss over your forehead, his hand that is not holding yours coming to wrap around you.

It is only after you pull away from his embrace and leave a chaste kiss to his lips that the corner of your eye notices a sort of spy in the corner of the door frame.

“What’s he doing here” 

Poe frowns before he turns around, huffing out a laugh when he notices BB-8 peeking out the door. “How long have you been here?” he jokingly scolds his droid that fully reveals himself now that he has been caught. “You know he doesn’t like when we fight” he softly sighs turning back to you, a mix of amusement and concern in his eyes before he looks at BB rolling over the both of you.

You shake your head, unable to suppress your smile at BB-8’s presence. “Very sweet of him to be looking out for us,” you start, reaching out to pat the droid’s dome affectionately. “But maybe he should learn not to eavesdrop.”

BB-8 chirps playfully, obviously pleased with the attention, seemingly eager to be a part of the reconciliation.

Poe chuckles, kneeling down to scratch behind BB-8’s sensor with a fond smile. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll work on that,” he says before glancing back at you with a soft smile. “He's our kid, he’s been worried sick about us, weren't you?” he turns to BB, who's beeping frantically in agreement.

You glance at him, then back at Poe, a softness settling in your chest at the sight of them together, your little family. “Our first kid, yeah” you smile softly, heart fluttering inside your chest.

“First? Meaning there's gonna be more?” Poe asks with a playful smile, getting back on his feet. He raises his eyebrows as he awaits your response, and you both laugh at the sudden change of atmosphere as Poe wraps a hand around you before pressing a kiss to your temple.

You huff out a laugh at his quick jump to conclusion, “I don't know, you're a pretty good dad to this one,” you shrug.

“A couple hours ago I was dead to you and now we're talking having kids” he laughs into your hair, a teasing tone in his voice. 

“You weren’t even close to being dead to me, you’re so dramatic Poe” you declare with a small scoff, poking his chest lightly. “That’s the reason Beebs loves you so much” you tease, making him huff out a laugh. “I’d say we should focus on surviving one parenting experience first,” you chuckle looking down at BB-8, nudging Poe playfully. “But who knows what the future holds?”

Poe grins, his eyes sparkling with excitement as his arm grasps tighter around his hold on you. “As long as I have you by my side, I'm up for anything babe.”

—

reblogs and feedback are extremely (I cannot stress this enough) appreciated!!

star wars masterlist: @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious @stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96 @unear7hly

[munsster]

brain like a sieve

A/N: i am on a MAD ONE with the way im writing. she has motivation and inspiration and fingers of STEEL. (gif creds: @neblisi )

Pairings: Eddie Munson x GN!Reader

Summary: Eddie’s on top of the world when you tell him you love him. So much so, in fact, that he forgets to say it back. 0.8k words

Warnings: established relationship, kissing, fluff, insecurity, obliviousness, pet names (bunny, bug, lovebug), ONE half swear word (i SWEAR it took so much self control, i dont know how i limited myself)

You’ve got this fiery look in your eye right before you say it that distracts him.

“I love you, Eddie.”

And your hair is wild and your hands are wound into the collar of his shirt and he can’t help but wonder what divine force of nature got him here. Made him so lucky.

And in the midst of everything: Eddie forgets to say it back.

He kisses you sweetly and holds you at the waist, drinking in the way you look at him and tug him closer. But he still doesn’t say it back. A minute passes, and everything settles and he thinks you’re beautiful and you love him, and he forgot to say it back.

You go home in a frenzy. Why didn’t he say it back? You can barely do your laundry without running the conversation over in your head. Did you do something wrong? You think you’ll wait a week, give it time, maybe he’ll call and say it. Maybe he’s still processing it. Does he not love you back? You end up waiting two days before calling him in the middle of the night.

“Okay! We can talk, lovebug. Why don’t you come over tomorrow night? I’ll order takeout.”

You can hear Eddie’s smile through the phone, completely unfazed by the ungodly hour and by the confusion and hurt in your voice. Your eyes go wide, and you slowly nod.

“Yeah… that works,” you say.

“Alright, I’ll see you then.”

But you’re still confused. He spoke and smiled like nothing was the matter. Like you hadn’t been down on your knees with devoted confession for him. Maybe he just didn’t hear you. Except you know he heard you because you said it in the rest between laughter and conversation and the way he gave you a soft smile meant he had to have heard you.

“I brought cupcakes.” You stand on his porch steps, shivering from the cold, wind licking your face and threatening to blow you off your feet. Eddie grins and takes the plate from you, grabbing your hand and leading you to the kitchen. He sets the soft yellow platter down beside the bags of takeout and whips around to leer at you like a big cat.

“Hi, bunny,” he whispers. And you’re already flustered.

Eddie smiles because he knows and plants one on you like you’ve never kissed before. Like it hasn’t been his favorite pastime the entire time he’s known you. Despite how stone-faced you told yourself you’d be, you crumple into temptation and whine when he pulls away.

Moments later, you’re both perched on his bed, facing each other while he’s smiling and poking at your knee.

“So…” Eddie says, batting his lashes.

“So?”

“Well, you said you wanted to talk—”

“Oh”—you press a hand to your face and take a deep breath—“I know, I’m just… okay… d’you remember the other day? We were cracking jokes on your bed and messing around in general and…”

“Yeah, I remember.” He inches ever closer, tugging at the sleeve of your coat like a needy cat. Because you don’t know how distracted he had gotten all while thinking about how pretty you looked. How pretty your laugh is and how he doesn’t know where he’d be if he didn’t have you.

“And then I said…”—you sigh—“I mean, I told you I love you, and you didn’t… say anything—”

And as if all of the blood had been drained from his face, he goes ghost-pale in embarrassment. He feels nauseous and panicked.

“Oh my God! Bug! I love you, I love you, I do, I’m—oh my God, I got completely distracted, I’m mortified, I swear, I—”

You feel relief, yet your voice is still small when you ask:

“Distracted? Distracted by what…?”

“Well”—and it makes him shy owning up to his conscience like this—“you were laughin’ so hard and… and then I snorted which made you laugh even harder and I was thinking… ‘bout how beautiful you looked smiling so wide, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you. And you said you loved me and I was on cloud nine. You were grabbing me and you looked like you could cry from laughing and I wanted to kiss you and I love you. And I’m sorry I got distracted.”

Your jaw unclenches and you sit there for a second, blinking at him in disbelief and yet complete understanding.

Then you tackle him, pin him to the bed with a yelp. And once he’s done wriggling, he’s scared for his life with how furious you look pressing him down like this.

“Eddie Munson!”

“Don’t be mad at me, please! Because I love you—”

“Shut up,” you say, grinning when he cups your face and swipes his thumb across your cheek.

“I do. I lo—”

“Shh, precious few words, Eddie.”

“Too bad, that sucks, I’m completely in love with you,” he huffs, “Now say it back.”

You grin and you look like you could bite a chunk out of him right about now. And he’s pretty sure he prefers it that way when you say:

“…I love you.”

“Damn right.”

masterlist

[rubyvhs]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ dean winchester liking someone tough…

gn!reader, masterlist

dean winchester meeting you and he just can’t get through to you. sammy accepts dean’s love easily and the gestures and his sweet words (if he ever gives them), you don’t accept a cup of coffee unless you pay him back and it gets on his nerves. 

you hunt one time with them— total accident, and he just thinks, wow, most gorgeous person he’s ever see — and you’re asking sam if his brother has issues because he’s been staring & you don’t wanna bring it up.

sam kinda laughs, dean kinda wants to throw himself out on the highway. sam assures you his brother just likes you, you scoff and walk away— dean wishes he could burn his eyes out. being rejected is one thing, being treated like that? totally other thing he’s never dealt with and is not ready to deal with.

the rest of the case is fine and thankfully, you’re a research kind of hunter so you spend most of it with sam. he’d think with all that… whatever you’ve been doing, you’re more hands on. (whatever you’ve been doing being not flirting with him, what’s wrong with you?)

“sammy, they give you their number?” he asks when they get in the impala to head back to the bunker and his little asshole of a brother nods. nods like it’s so damn casual. it isn’t. you didn’t offer dean your number.

so he shrugs it off but he knows it’s not over. sam does too, unfortunately, but he can’t focus on his embarrassment for now. he heard you saying something about visiting a city when you’re done with the hunt so this man spends hours looking for cities that start with the letter ‘g’ that might be anywhere near the vicinity of pennsylvania. he finds a few, tosses a coin, does some research, and great, a couple of hearts went missing a few towns over from where you’re staying.

he rushes sam out of the bunker two weeks later and on the drive to god knows where with the werewolf problem, he stops at a motel.

“you— you need to stop? are you serious?”

“a man needs his rest, sam.”

“not you.” dean shrugs like he’s not shocking his brother to next week and they set up in a motel for the night. he finishes brushing his teeth before making a noise like he just had an idea. 

“sammy, remember the hunter from the wendigo case?”

“…yeah it’s only been two weeks dean. you remember their name.”

“sure. whatever. we should call them, right? we’re close by.”

“how would you know—”

“i just do—”

“dean just call them yourself, man. i have their number in my cell.”

“no no, they gave it to you.”

“yeah, ‘cause you were in the car. just call them—”

“fine! god, you’re annoying.” and he slams the bathroom door so sam doesn’t see the sweat running down his face. he’s not scared— okay maybe a little intimidated, but you’re so… put together and you know what you want and if you didn’t give dean your number then surely you meant to do it, right?

when he’s out of the bathroom he uses sam’s phone to call you. it’s an honest accident. in his hurry to not back out, he forgot to switch phones. “hello.” your voice comes through when the call connects and he’s thinking of— “sam? you there?”

“h—hey. yeah, no, not sam.” he clears his throat and he hears you laugh and he thinks his heart melts.

“dean? hey, how are you?”

“great, ‘m good. just, we were, y’know, workin’ on a case nearby—”

“near where?”

“where you are, and i thought i’d call, ask if you wanna join us.”

“sure. but where’s that again?”

“geneva.”

“dean, i’m not anywhere near geneva.”

“what? but you said—”

“i said genesee.” he shuts his eyes aggressively, panicking, trying to think of what to say. “but it’s— i didn’t know you listened.”

“yeah apparently i didn’t do it well enough.”

“‘s fine, i can be there in a few days if y’all are still having trouble with it.” he perks up, sighing in relief.

“yeah, yeah, that sounds good, we’re on our way so it could take us a day or so.” and when you promise him you’ll call in a few days he can’t help but hang up with a smile on his face. and a middle finger thrown to the grinning sam in the corner.

he tells sam that he wants the day off when he wakes up and sam’s thisclose to calling everyone he knows to ask where the real dean is. but he already gets it. dean likes you, he doesn’t want to finish the hunt early in hopes that you’ll join them again and honestly sam looked at the facts and the werewolf is as much of a threat as a vacuum cleaner.

seeing as he’s frickin locked up in jail like any normal murderer. not that they know he’s not normal— the point is, sam saw that and gaped at dean like he was crazy. he drove them six hours (there still four more to go) for a werewolf that’s already locked up and if he hasn’t escaped yet then it’s because he’s stupid enough to stay locked. they don’t need to go kill him.

but dean insists and sam kind of doesn’t mind the vacation from the stuffy bunker. dean enjoys the day, eats, looks around, makes sure they’re not needed and they spend another night before heading out. when you meet up with them another day later sam notices dean’s shaved two days early and he combed his hair. his brother, dean winchester, combed his hair.

“hey,” dean greets you with a wave and you move in to hug sam first then him. deans surprised, not taking you for the type, but it seems he’s been very misinformed about you.

“so, what’s up? i didn’t actually get to read anything on my way here.”

“oh, it’s—” sam’s about to tell you it’s nothing, the guys locked up but dean cuts him off.

“we should get breakfast first, we’ll talk about it then?” you nod, ready to get back in your car when dean speaks up, “we could drive you. it’d be easier if we’re all in one car.”

when you decline his offer, saying you can’t go anywhere without your girl, he thinks he just fell in love. he’s blushing out of both embarrassment at the rejection and the adoring look he knows is painting his face at hearing how much you care about your car.

at the diner you’re about to order before dean groans, slamming his hand on his thigh and tsk’ing, making you frown across from him. “they locked him up. the guys locked up, looks like he wasn’t much of a threat.”

sam barely holds his laugh in. that’s why he didn’t want him telling you? he’s lying his way to a date with you? sam can’t wait to see it go down.

“oh. that sucks, we came all the way here for nothing. i can take care of it, i know you guys have been on the road longer, lebanons a long way from here.”

dean shakes his head quickly. “nah, we’ll go, you just got here today.” you tilt your head in confusion.

“you’ve been here for more than a day? and you didn’t find out he’s been arrested?”

dean’s eyes narrow like he doesn’t understand what you’re saying. he’s about to ask for clarification before the waitress comes and he thanks the heavens above. strictly looks at his menu while speaking to her so she doesn’t get the wrong idea like he eh us usually do, and ignores sam the entire time he’s asking you about anything and everything.

halfway through you notice you’re mostly talking and ask sam some things, he happily replies through gritted teeth since dean is kicking him under the table.

after breakfast you thank them and you’re about to get back in your car, since there’s clearly no case here, before you turn around. “dean?”

he hums in response, and sam takes it as his cue to scream into the impala, you walk over to dean, both hands on his biceps, “how about next time you just ask me out? you didn’t need to drive all this way.”

dean blushing is the understatement of the century as you slap his chest twice and walk away. he memorized your plates.

idk what this is but yay! it’s done! hopefully it pulls me out of my block because i can’t write anything good for the life of me.

also guys ugh i wish i could describe it better and if you have any ideas tell me but the narrowing his eyes thing was me trying to describe the look he gave jody when she was talking about sex and ‘wha’ face SO CUTE

[imaginesheaven]

GN!Reader x TF 141 – Relationship Dynamics

Warnings: swearing

Length: ~2.7k

Captain John Price – Doberman x Orange Cat Dynamic

The two of you are quite an uncommon pair, but it does work out somehow.

With his collected demeanor, Price is definitely the calm before the storm. He is able to give you the quiet time you need, bringing serenity into your life and calming you down.

On the other hand, you are the storm after the calm, so if shit goes sideways, you are either the solution or the cause of it. There is literally no in between. Still John wouldn’t want it the other way around. You are the little storm in his life to keep him busy.  

Being the whirlwind of the Task Force; tearing everything down in your way you are probably 99.9% the reason why John is always exhausted at the end of the day. Of course, he would never tell a soul about it, but he enjoys how you are endlessly restless.

He is on the run behind you like all the time. “Could you calm down for a second?” – “I have never known calm before in my life … so no!”

In this context it is a nightmare for John to keep your injured ass in the bed. Sometimes he can’t believe how much energy a human being like you can have. “Love, you need to rest. You are injured.” – “Sleep is for the weak, John! I am vengeance! I am the night!” – “You are NOT BATMAN!”

In the end he lures you with a lot of cuddles and back scratches back into bed. Having you close to him, for once calmed down, John remembers how completely smitten he is with you. There is literally nothing this man wouldn’t do for you.

Before the two of you started dating, the whole base knew that Captain Price has a soft spot for you. Everyone could see the love for you on his face. Everyone except for you. Even when he confessed his feelings you were still oblivious how much John loves you with all of his heart.

Price is always there to protect you. Being the Doberman of the relationship obviously. With your orange cat energy, you are in trouble like 5 out of 7 days of the week. Still he bails you out of any trouble, knowing for sure you are already planning your next coup. John loves the entertainment you give him with your crazy ideas sometimes. And to be honest he has to give you credit for your creativity.

So, most phone calls go like this:

“Hey, John!” – “Did you get in trouble?” – “Me? Never! *snickers* However, can you come and get me from the infirmary?” – “I’m on my way, love…”

“Just wanted to let you know how much I love you!” – “What did you do this time?” – “Nothing! *multiple crashing sounds and Soap screaming in the background* - “Don’t move! I’ll get you.”

Or waking him up in the middle of the night:

“Psst.. John!” – “Are you hurt, love?” – “No…” – “Then get back to sleep. It can wait…” – “But guess what I did!” – “Fuck!” *is awake in a second*

Having briefings is also very eventful since you are endlessly sarcastic. You don’t care about ranks. If someone says something stupid, you have to reply. It’s a natural reaction like breathing.

“Oh, so you are the sperm that won in the end against all the others? How embarrassing…” – “(Y/N)!” – “Come on, Laswell, that was a good one.” *Prices has always your back*

And with that comments you are always one minor inconvenience away from causing chaos all over the base. John is here for it :)

Keeping you safe is definitely not easy for John, but he tries his best every single day, because you are worth it.

“Go on, say it before I let you roam free to cause chaos and bring hell upon everyone.”  – “This is embarrassing, John.” – “…” – “Ugh, fine. Breaking things should not be fun. Fire and explosions are bad. If I get hurt, you will be mad. No weapons of any kind. I will behave… okay?” – “Good, have fun, love~”

Simon “Ghost” Riley – Doberman x Black Cat Dynamic

Oh well, how can I explain this relationship the best? If the devil itself and the grim reaper started to date, that’s how the two of you are like. It didn’t take people long to understand to stay away from you two, since Simon is the infamous cold Ghost and you are scaring people away with your permanent “Fuck off!”-face. Both of you oblivious to that fact:

“Why is everyone scared of us, Simon?” – “No idea.” *both of you literally throwing death glares at everyone*

Simon would never admit it out loud, but he thinks it’s incredibly hot how you intimidate people with a single glance. Grown ass man with higher ranks as you started to get nervous in your presence. You are literally a force to be reckoned with. And he loves every second about it.

Ghost is a Doberman for sure. That man in big and scary in his black gear. He looks like he is in charge, but boy, behind closed doors you walk him like a dog. You are his match he has been looking for so long.

“I will not discuss this with you.” *starts to walk out of the room* - “Come the fuck back and talk to me, Simon.” *stays calm and collected* - *Simon turns around and sits down like a good boy*

However, Simon would die to protect you in a second. He has never felt so much love for a person before. Takes his job as your personal bodyguard very seriously even if he knows that you can protect yourself very well.

“EXCUSE ME?!” *you walk towards another big soldier* - “Fuckin’ hell…” *rolls his eyes but follows you anyway* - “I can handle it on my own.” – “Oh, I know. I’m here just in case, sunshine.” *stays back but ready to pounce any second*

The other soldiers know to stay away from you, but sometimes it still happens. The rest of the Task Force loves to watch how you always get in trouble like:

“Say that to my face, asshole!” – *Simon standing behind you shooting death glares* “Try it. I dare you.”

The two of you always have each other’s back. Where one is, the other is probably not far away. Simon couldn’t imagine his life without your grumpy and black cat energy anymore. Your chosen love language is teasing and making fun of each other like most of the time. Also, in front of other people.

“You are so serious all the time, Simon.” *you stare at him with your infamous stoic facial expression* - “You are no ray of sunshine either~” *can’t help himself but smile underneath his mask*

And so, the nickname sunshine was established for you. It’s meant to be sarcastic, but for Simon you are literally the sunshine of his life. Making everything brighter and better. Behind closed doors you let him see your vulnerable side.

“If you ever leave me, I will burn down the world…” – “I’m literally devoted to you, sunshine. No need for more chaos and destruction.” – “….” – “You are mine and you are so cute.” *cups your face in his hands* - “… and lethal. Don’t forget that, jerk.” *melts into his touch*

Simon loves how you can handle yourself, but sometimes you drive him crazy testing out his patience on a daily basis.

“Look at me, sunshine!” – “Make me~” *smirks at him*- “Watch your tone for once.” – “Or what?!” *ready to tear him down* - “I think it’s time for you to eat something.” *takes your hand in his* - “I think it’s time to break something!” *escapes his grip* - “No, sunshine! Come back!” *runs after you to pick you up*

Here and there you think that you are too harsh towards the world, but in the end it’s just how the two of you are.

“We are really mean to the Rookies, Simon.” – “… And? It builds their characters. It’s good for them.” – “… True.” *you smile at him* “I love you.” – “I love you too, sunshine.”

John “Soap” MacTavish – Golden Retriever x Black Cat Dynamic

No one really knows how the two of you end up together, but somehow Soap managed to worm his way into your heart rather quickly. You have seen your fair share of cruelty in this world, which explains your cold, stoic and always annoyed presence. You are annoyed by anything and anyone except him. He could never annoy you.

Soap has never met someone like you, who has endless patience for his crazy energy. His mind is working thousand miles per second all the time. He is quite literally a storm. Then there you are bringing your calmness to him; slowing him down finally.

The rest of the team were lucky enough to see how you manage to stop this whirlwind named Soap. Surprised how calm and collected you are as he almost jogs his circles around your spot on the couch.

“Here, Johnny” *you hand him a box* - “What is that?” *has his hands already all over it* - “A Jigsaw puzzle.” – “…” *looks confused at you* - “I managed to do it in under an hour. Can you beat me?” – “Challenge accepted!” *he starts to puzzle and calms down*

Soap can’t even express how grateful he is to have you by his side. You handle all of him so perfectly without an ounce of judgement. You might look scary on the outside but you have such a soft spot for him.

It doesn’t matter what stupid shit Johnny might does, you will always have his back. Which also means bailing him out of trouble all the time. Sometimes Soap doesn’t understand how you still can love him.

*you bail him out of jail in the middle of the night* - “I’m sorry…” – “It’s okay.” *you give him a rare smile of yours* - “You are not disappointed by me?” *cue puppy eyes* - “Oh gosh! No! That is absolutely impossible, okay? … But you are still an idiot.” – But I’m yer idiot!” *wraps his arm around you* - “… Unfortunately …” *enjoys it anyway*

One of Johnny’s love language? Physical contact like all of the time. Yours? No physical contact like all of the time. So, cuddling is for you going through every circle of hell, but you do it for him and sometimes it is quite nice. Soap is always the little spoon. Outside he is the big bad soldier, but with you he is just a baby.

On the other side, you also can be vulnerable when he is by your side. It is something you don’t like to do very often, but Johnny gives you the reassurance you need. All the insecurities you hide from the world.

“Please, never leave me…” *buries face in his chest* - “You have never to worry about that, my love.” – “You think we are going to be okay?” – “I know it. You are safe with me. I would never hurt you.” *kisses your head* - “… Okay… I love you.” – “I love you more.”

Soap with his Golden Retriever energy loves meeting new people above everything else. It’s quite the funny sight to see you standing behind him judging everyone you meet. You are also his protector. Here and there Johnny gets too nice with people. You take your job to protect his beautiful sparkle very seriously.

*pulls him down by his ear* “What did I say about being nice to strangers?!”

But Soap has also to take care of you, since you are never looking after yourself either. He has always a drink and snack ready for you no matter the time.

“Did you eat? Drink water? Got sunlight?” – “Uh, nope, thank you tough.” *make your way out of the room* - “Where do you think you are going?” *picks you up to bring you back* “Just give up, love.” - *you struggling in his arms* “NEVER!!!!”

Johnny loves to take pictures with you, even though you never smile on any of them. He keeps taking them still admiring you.

“You are the love of my life.” – “My condolences, Johnny.” *smiles at him*

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick – Golden Retriever x Orange Cat Dynamic

Well, what do we have here? It looks a little bit like a double trouble team. Price definitely did not plan his Task Force to be this chaotic with the two of you. We have to mention that Gaz is usually not the one causing trouble.

This poor lovesick man is usually only the accessory to your crimes. It’s you who has the stupid ideas and the matching plan for every idea. It’s also him who bails the two of you out of everything with his innocent and sweet smile. You would never admit it, but it makes you a bit jealous how easy it is for him to do that.

“See, I told you we would get out of this, love!” *smiles happily* - “Shut up before I do another stupid thing…” *glares at him but is more than glad to have him by your side*

It makes is hard for him to enjoy a nice little adventure to spend time with you, because you have a talent to turn almost everything you two to into a police chase.

“OH MY GOD! DRIVE! KYLE!” *jumps into the car through the window* - “WHAT DID YOU DO?!” – “DON’T ASK! DRIVE!” *sirens come closer*

Kyle is the definition of a safe space for you. With him you can be exactly the person you are and you never have to be afraid that he will leave you. You are his little panic room. All those negative thoughts and anxieties he has are safe with you.

“This mission is going to be a shit-show.” – “You have two minutes to let all your panic, worries and the negativity out.” – *talks it off his soul* - “Great, now the show must go on, Gaz.” *you give him a tight hug* - “Thanks…” *can’t believe how much he loves you*

This man survives most of the missions out of pure luck. Fortunately, your second name is pure luck. You are always there to save his ass no matter what. Even more after he fell out of the helicopter.

“Ha, Gaz, there is your guardian angel~” - *you coming out of nowhere killing enemies left and right to save his handsome face* - “I told you to be careful!” *hitting the back of his head with your hand*

The others weren’t that wrong. You are an angel. His angel.

Here and there the world becomes too much for you to bear. Your orange cat energy can easily turn into a black cat one. When that happens, you go through at least 121828378 emotions a day, but Gaz knows exactly how to handle all of them.

“I’m cranky… leave me alone.” – *wraps himself around you* “Hi cranky. I love you!” - *you can’t help yourself but smile a bit* “I don’t feel good mentally.” – “It’s okay. I’m here, my angel.” *kisses your forehead* - hours later – “Can I let go now, angel?” - *grinning* “Nope, never.”

You would never ever admit out loud that you are missing Gaz. Of course, he knows that you are only playing with him. He can see it in your face like every single time. Especially when you have to stay back injured and the team goes on missions without you. The entire time you worry about his safety, because when you are not with him who is going to save his handsome face?

“I missed you, angel!” *hugs you tightly* - “You were gone?” *trying to play it cool but has been crying the entire time* - “It’s okay…” *could see your puffy red eyes*

The two of you are a perfect mix out of being friendly and causing chaos. Neither of you could imagine your life without the other one.

“Do you love me or the chaos, Gaz?” – “Uh… Definitely both~”

[tsu-kitty]

𝓸𝓅𝓉𝒾𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒸

♡ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 › 2.0k

♡ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 › atsumu x reader, gn!reader, atsumu gets in an off-page fight over the reader, fluff.

♡ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 › after getting stood-up on a date, atsumu sees his chance to swoop in and steal your heart.

♡ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 › i only recently jumped on the atsumu train, so he may be a bit ooc, but i'm in love with what i wrote so hopefully you will be too and you can forgive me. also, not proofread, sorry, i was so excited to post this.

The tears streaming down your cheeks were cold and salty and stung when the winter wind hit your face. You hated that you were crying. It wasn’t like you were heartbroken. You didn’t even like the guy, you barely knew him. It was more that you were a hopeless romantic who accepted an offer for a coffee date despite knowing little more than the guy's name. Love was unpredictable, a mysterious being that worked in round-about ways. Maybe she had chosen this unknown blue-eyed boy from the class below yours to be your soul mate.

Alas, after stopping you on your way home to ask if you'd like to go on a date and exchanging numbers, he hadn't even possessed the human decency to reply to your messages asking where he was, if he was running late. The only response you received was the minuscule text under your message bubble reading “read”.

So, no, you weren't heartbroken. You weren't entirely sure what you were. Disappointed? Embarrassed? Both seemed to fit. Regardless, you tried to find the bright side. Maybe you’d just dodged a bullet. If his actions today spoke anything of his character, then he would have been a lousy boyfriend. 

Still, here you were, dressed up in a cute but warm baby blue and pink outfit, ready for at least a morning of cosy winter date activities. It would really be a waste of a cute outfit if you were to go home immediately. Who said you couldn’t take yourself on a nice date? 

Wiping the tears off your face, you spun on your heel, determined to not let the day be unhappy. First, you needed a snack and a warm beverage. There was an adorable cafe in the other direction that was miles better than the one your not-date had suggested.

“Oh, Y/N!”

“Atsumu?”

The tall blonde boy grinned, wiping the light sheen of sweat on his forehead away. Judging by his shoes and athletic attire, he was out on a run. “Hey, Y/N. How are you? What are you doing here?”

Miya Atsumu wasn’t someone you would consider yourself to be particularly close to, but the two of you had miraculously managed to be in the same class all throughout highschool. So, you knew him more than an acquaintance would, but less than a friend. However, you were on a given-name basis, mostly due to him having a twin brother. Atsumu had been seated behind you this first semester, though, so there was always potential for the relationship to bloom into friendship. Still, you weren’t there yet, so confessing to being stood up just moments ago was out of the question.

“Oh, um, you know, just the usual—”

“You’re crying.”

Suddenly, he was right in front of you, his nose barely ten centimetres from yours, cupping your face in his big, rough hands. His chocolate eyes were wide and concerned, pulling his thick brows together. 

“N-No, I’m not,” you stuttered, taken aback by Atsumu’s unexpected closeness. Your heart was pounding against your chest, anxiety pushing its speed faster and faster. If he got any closer, you’re sure you would pass out.

“Your eyes are red and watery,” he said with a seriousness you didn’t know he possessed. 

“I have allergies,” you lied. 

“Y/N, I’m not a complete idiot.”

“Listen, I’m fine,” you said, trying your best to avoid his eyes as you peeled his hands off your face. They were too close, too intense. “I promise. I’m already over it.”

“Okay, then what were you crying about?” he asked, bending his head to try to follow your gaze.

“It’s nothing really. I just got stood up.” You forced a smile. “But it’s okay, I’m over it really. I barely even knew the guy.”

Something in Atsumu’s expression shifted darkly before landing on a bright smile. “Oh, really? I’m sorry that happened to you. Who were you supposed to meet?”

Suspicion tickled at the back of your mind, but you told him anyway. “Furutani Hide.”

“Furutani, huh?” Atsumu pondered. “Nah, can’t say I know the guy.”

“I don’t really either,” you confessed. “He asked me out randomly at school.”

“Why’d you say yes if you don’t know him?” asked Atsumu, brows pulling together again. 

It occurred to you at that moment that his eyebrows were a lot darker than the rest of his hair. Was he a fake blonde? How had you never noticed before? His hair was kind of an unusual colour now that you really considered it.

“Well, uh… I don’t know…” you said sheepishly, twisting a ring around your finger. “My friends say I’m a hopeless romantic . I think I’m just… optimistic.”

You raised your eyes to Atsumu’s and found him staring at you eyes wide and mouth agape. Then he cleared his throat and regained his composure. Why he lost it in the first place, you weren’t sure. Maybe he… No. Had you not learnt your lesson? This was the kind of thinking that had led to you crying your eyes out not five minutes ago. 

“Either way,” Atsumu said, scratching the back of his head, “it’s his loss. I mean, can’t say I know you super well, but just from being your classmate for three years, I can tell you’re a pretty cool person.”

His words caught you off guard. 

“Really?”

Atsumu shrugged. “Yeah.”

A gentle heat rose in your cheeks. “Wow. Thanks, Atsumu.”

“Eh, no problem. Look, I gotta go, but I’ll see you at school on Monday. Try to cheer up in the meantime, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, returning his wave as he started up his jog again. 

By the time Monday rolled around, you were completely over being stood-up and your brain was on its way to forgetting about the whole incident. That was until you happened to be passing by the teacher’s lounge when the door slid open and out trudged Furutani Hide, slouched and dazed, looking extremely worse for wear. His hair was sticking up in odd places, his tie was screwed drastically to the left against his white shirt which was oddly dirty. Worst of all, one of his nostrils was plugged with a tissue and the other was freely leaking crimson blood. 

At the sight of you, Furutani’s back straightened before he snapped at the waist, blurting, “Y/F/N, I’m terribly sorry for asking you on a date then standing you up. I am a spineless coward and will never do such a thing to anyone ever again. I will stay out of your way and never bother you again.” 

You watched slack-jawed as he bowed twice more then sprinted out of sight, down the hallway, nearly knocking over three other students. 

“Well, I’m glad we got that cleared up.”

Turning back to the teacher’s lounge, you watched  Miya Atsumu waltz towards you, hands tucked into his trouser pockets, as casual and confident as ever. He was sporting an all-too-pleased-with-himself smirk and bandaid on his cheekbone. His hair and tie were also askew, but in a slightly purposeful way. His shirt was relatively spotless but his trouser knees were stained with dust.

“Atsumu…” you said slowly, piecing together a scenario that you hoped both did and did not happen. “What did you do…?”

“Bold of you to assume I did anything,” he replied coyly, stepping almost as close as he had when you last spoke to him. “The pig probably just had a change of heart.”

“Atsumu,” you repeated, harsher than before.

Sighing, he rolled his head around his shoulders then met your questioning gaze. Were you really going to make him say it?

You didn’t falter, making a show of crossing your arms and shifting your weight onto one leg, popping your hip out.

Atsumu sighed again. “Fine. I didn’t like the fact that he stood you up on your date. Soooo… I may or may not have…” He avoided your gaze. “... told him he needed to apologise to you when I saw him at lunch.”

You waited.

“And punched him in the face.”

“Atsumu!” you gasped. Yes, you had assumed some sort of fight had occurred, but you hadn’t expected Atsumu to be the instigator. “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t really.”

At least he could admit it.

“I was just really pissed off,” he said, shrugging.

Whilst you were flattered that a boy would get into a fight on your behalf, you really couldn’t condone that sort of behaviour. “There was no need for you to be pissed off,” you scolded him.

“He was literally flirting with some other girl,” Atsumu exclaimed, hands flying out of his pockets to emphasise the drama of his statement.

“That doesn’t matter, Atsumu,” you continued. “I’m over it. Way over it. Even if I wasn’t, it hardly concerns you, so why would you—”

“Uh, yeah, it kinda does concern me, ‘specially when it’s hurting the person that I like.”

You froze. “Oh.”

Atsumu rolled his eyes. Now, it was his turn to cross his arms judgmentally. “Yeah, ‘oh’.”

At his unexpected confession, all the words in your vocabulary had left you along with the air in your lungs.

Atsumu continued with his confession, full steam ahead stepping closer to until your own retaliation steps had you almost pressed against the wall. “You know, for someone who’s friends would call them a hopeless romantic but would prefer to describe themselves as ‘optimistic’, you really are blind to romance.” He placed his hands on the windowsill on either side of your body, caging you between his arms. “I’ve been flirting with you since the start of the year when I got seated behind you.”

Your heart was beating like you’d just run a marathon, pounding against your ribcage. You regained just enough words and air to mumble, “I thought you were just being friendly.”

“Oh my God, Y/N,” Atsumu groaned, physically deflating. “You’re so dense.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. 

“Don’t apologise,” Atsumu replied, lifting one arm to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I should have just been straight forward with my feelings.” His fingers trailed down and around to your jaw to pull your gaze up to his. “I like you, Y/N. Have for a while now.”

Butterflies burst in your stomach, the heat from their frantic fluttering flowing into your cheeks. 

“And, I dunno if you’re, like, traumatised by your last date, but I’m still gonna ask. Do you want to go out with me after school today? I can guarantee you there is no chance of me ditching. Plus, I sit right behind you, so you can keep an eye on me the whole time.”

He waited patiently while you processed his words. His sunny brown eyes flecked with gold and bronze watched you intensely, anticipation steadily building. It was clear to you that he was being sincere when he said he liked you. The way he was looking at you was something you had fantasised about over and over: a look of fondness and hope and unwavering affection. It was an optimist’s dream come true. 

You were right in your thoughts on love. Not about her choosing Furutani Hide as your soulmate, but about her being an unpredictable, mysterious being that worked in round-about ways. Who could have predicted that the final push for you and Atsumu would be him beating up the guy that stood you up? Not even the most hopeless of romantics.

“Yes,” you finally replied, causing Atsumu to flinch, his face lighting up. “I do want to go out with you.”

Much to your amusement, Atsumu jumped for joy, fist pumping the air in excitement. “Oh my God, that’s great. I’m so hyped, you don’t even know.”

You giggled. Yeah, this seemed more like your soulmate.

[psychedelic-pebble]

Gooey - Stanford Pines x Reader

hey all!! i return!! coming back with a bang!! been writing this for a couple days, hope you enjoy <33

Warnings: NSFW Content, Desk Sex, P in V Sex, Breeding, Mild Primal Kink(?), Dom!Stanford Pines, Sub!Reader - MDNI.

Pairing(s): Stanford Pines x GN!Reader

Stanford isn’t usually the type to keep things from you. Sure, he has secrets, everyone does. But he’s been unusually… avoidant, as of late. You’re not sure if it’s something you said or did, but he’s been shying away from your advances on him in the bedroom recently.

You make your way down to the lab, knowing the code as he’d given it to you a while back. In a last ditch effort to get some answers (and hopefully some sex), you stride into the lab where he’s currently hunched over the desk scribbling something in his notebook.

“Hey,” you start, snaking an arm around his shoulder and leaning over him, “it’s late. You should come to bed.”

He bristles at your touch, not having heard you come in. His head turns to meet your gaze with sleepy, lidded eyes. He notices what you’re wearing; nothing but a tank top that fits slightly too large on you and a pair of sleep shorts that hug your form a little too nicely. Ford clears his throat and looks back at his research.

“I have a lot of work to do.” He mumbles, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t afford getting distracted.”

You frown and make a noise of discontent, leaning closer to him. “You can afford a little time away from it.”

He bites the inside of his cheek for a moment before sighing.

“I suppose a little sleep wouldn’t hurt.” He leans back in his chair and looks up at you for a moment before averting his eyes again.

“I was hoping maybe we could do a little more than just sleep.” You purr, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek. His breath catches in his throat and he grips the arms of his chair.. “I’ve been so deprived of your affections.”

“I know, love. I’m sorry.” He breathes, leaning into your touch.

“Is there a reason you’ve been so avoidant?” You ask, leaning back to look at him with genuine concern. He looks embarrassed and shifts his gaze to the other end of the room.

“I… suppose there is, yes.” Ford says after some delay, avoiding your eyes.

You tilt your head and falter a little. “Have I done something to make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” he smiles at you, albeit nervously, but genuine nonetheless, “you haven’t done anything wrong.”

You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off by raising a hand to shush you.

“I believe I’ve discovered something new.” Ford sheepishly fidgets with his hands, averting his eyes. “About myself.”

“Something bad?” You question, leaning closer to comfort him.

He shakes his head, getting a bit red in the face. “No, I just… am unsure how you’d react.”

You consider your options. He’s obviously embarrassed, and you want to reassure him that whatever he’s feeling is likely okay with you, but you don’t know whether to push or leave it.

“You can tell me anything.” You decide to push a little, not too much, but enough.

“I’ve been having a, um, fantasy. So to speak.” He starts, his face visibly reddening. “About you.”

You nod, biting your lip ever so slightly and leaning into him. “What’s it about?”

“I.. I would like to try finishing inside of you.” He eventually manages to stammer, looking away. “The thought of claiming you in such an intimate way is arousing to me, but I didn’t want to scare you off by asking.”

Your breath dies in the back of your throat and you swear you’ve never been so turned on before.

“Stanford.” You turn the chair so that he’s facing you, putting both hands on his shoulders and looking straight at him. “I would fucking love that.”

His eyes widen a little as he grips the arms of the chair, looking up at you. He gives a lopsided grin and lifts a hand to run it up your side.

“Excellent.” he whispers, his nervousness slowly seeping away and being replaced with lust.

His fingers run up your shirt and cup your waist, sending shivers up your spine. A low chuckle escapes him as you shudder and he stands suddenly, nearly knocking you back. You always forget just how tall he is compared to you; you have to tilt your head up to look at him.

He gently places both hands on your waist and leans forward to kiss you, pressing his lips hungrily to yours with desperation you rarely see from him. You moan quietly as he licks into your mouth, hands shaking moderately as you grip his shirt collar.

He pulls away first, only to lift you up and set you down on the desk in front of you. You make a surprised noise as his strong arms lift you so effortlessly, and you squeak at the cold feeling of the desk against your legs. Stanford laughs quietly, running a hand up the front of your shirt to hold your waist.

“Is this okay, dear?” He purrs against the side of your throat as he leans over you, rubbing gentle circles into your hip with his thumb.

“Mhm.” You nod, running a hand through his hair. He makes a low hum that rumbles through his chest and runs his hand lower, resting the other on the desk in front of him.

His fingers brush lower into your shorts, teasing you before he abruptly brushes against your cunt. You make a whiny little sound, hips rutting up into his hand impatiently.

“Patience, sweetheart.” He mumbles, pressing a hot kiss to the side of your throat. “You’re so wet. Have you been thinking about this?”

You whine in response and he eases a finger into you, curling it upwards in such a manner that you have to cover your mouth to silence the noise it draws from your throat. He slides another finger into you, gently thrusting them in and out while occasionally curling them in a way that he knows drives you insane.

“Please, more,” you mumble, trying to make your hands not shake as much as they are, “I need you, Ford.”

Stanford lets out a low groan and removes his fingers from inside you, dragging his hand out of your shorts and pulling them down along with your underwear.

“Fuck.” He swears, pulling back to haphazardly unbuckle his belt. “So good for me.”

You whimper softly, leaning back to watch him. He fumbles with his pants before getting them off and pulling his boxers off along with them, kicking them off to the side somewhere and looking at you hungrily.

He leans over you and hisses through gritted teeth when the tip of his cock bumps your cunt, eyes shutting momentarily before he looks down at you.

“Still okay with this?” He asks, barely keeping his composure. You nod frantically, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“Please, Ford. Fuck me.” Your words cause a grin to spread on his face, one akin to a predator about to devour its prey.

He drops his head into your shoulder, hands moving to grasp your hips as he eases his cock into you. You bite your lip to stifle the embarrassingly loud noise that attempts to escape you, arching your back up into Stanford so that your chest presses against his and clawing at his shoulders.

He lets out a shaky groan once he’s fully bottomed out, his cock twitching inside you. Your nails dig little crescents into his shoulders and he hisses quietly, leaning upwards to get a better look at your face.

“Can I move, sweetheart?” He’s just barely holding back, panting and gripping your hips like you’ll disappear if he lets go.

You nod, making an affirmative noise and looking up at him. He wastes no time in pulling his hips back and slamming back in which surprises you; he’s not usually this rough. One hand moves up from your hip to slide under your shirt, trailing to the center of your abdomen. He pushes your shirt up to your ribs, nearly cumming on the spot from the sight alone.

“Fuck,” he groans, rocking his hips into you rougher, “see that? See how fucking deep I am inside you?”

He gestures to the small bulge in your abdomen that appears with every thrust before pressing down on your lower stomach on a particularly deep thrust. You make a humiliatingly loud noise, slapping a hand over your mouth to keep from getting too loud. He grins, fucking into you faster and moving to grasp your hips as he pumps his cock into you.

“Doing so well for me.” Ford purrs, clawing your hips and pulling you into him. “Gonna fuck you full. You’re gonna be a good little thing and take all of it, aren’t you?”

You’re so mindfucked at this point you’re barely making out his words. Every thrust of his hips positively sends your mind into overdrive, making it hard for you to even form a sentence. You babble something that sounds like a ‘yes sir’, drawing a low growl from his throat. He leans forward and bites down into the soft flesh of your lower neck, causing you to yelp and wrap your arms around his back. Your hands find their way up his shirt, clawing his back and marring deep red lines into his upper back.

“M’ close,” your words come out slurred, saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth and dripping down your chin, “please, Ford-!”

“Me too.” Stanford moves his hand and starts rubbing tight circles into your clit, ripping what may as well have been a scream from your lungs. “Gonna cum inside you, fuck, please let me cum inside you.”

“Stanford, please,” your mind is fogging up, “i…inside..”

That’s all it takes to drive Ford over the edge; he snarls as he sinks his teeth into the join between your neck and shoulders, fucking you like a feral animal with his thrusts getting quick and sloppy. In one final deep thrust he stills for a second, spurting hot ropes of cum inside you and pumping your cunt full.

You shriek, raking your nails across Stanford’s back and clenching around his cock as you spasm and reach your high, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. He lets out a low groan as he thrusts a few more times to fuck you through your orgasm, gripping your waist so tightly that his hands shake.

It takes a good while for the two of you to calm down, panting and trying to calm the dizzy feeling in your head. Stanford eventually pulls away from you and moves a hand up to cup your face, pressing a kiss to your cheek before running his hand through your hair.

“Are you alright, darling?” He asks, lungs still heaving from the intensity of his orgasm.

You nod lazily, slightly dazed. “Mhm.. sorry if I scratched up your back…”

“Don’t apologize. If anything, I’m the one who should be sorry.” Ford chuckles, leaning upwards and looking at your throat. “I did a number on you with my teeth.”

“S’ fine, I liked it.” You smile, eyes becoming sleepy and lidded.

“Let's get to bed.” Stanford rubs your side comfortingly with his hand, looking at you fondly. “Thank you for indulging me. I enjoyed myself.”

You smile and let out a small laugh, combing a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, I can tell.” You reply, sleepily. “I did too. Love you.”

Stanford smiles warmly at you and presses a kiss to your lips.

“I love you too, my dear.”

i also posted this to Ao3!! thanks for reading!! <3

[sammyluvr]

hold me, it’s enough — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, hurt/comfort, established relationship, descriptions of physical assault, small injuries, blood, pet names (baby, honey), barely edited, 1.6K words. requested !

prompt : “who did this to you?”

the cruelest part about tonight is the way you have to call sam to come pick you up, like you’re some child who’s gotten sick at school. it’s embarrassing and makes you feel guilty because your call woke him up. he’d gone back to the motel early to sleep after a long hunt; took the impala after dean disappeared with a girl, leaving you alone in the bar with your own car in the parking lot.

he answers after four rings, voice a little husky from sleep as he says your name questioningly into the speaker.

“hey, sam,” you respond, sighing quietly to yourself, “sorry to wake you, but i– i can’t drive myself back to the motel… any chance you could pick me up?”

you hear the rustle of sheets from the other end of the line, and you assume it’s sam sitting up. “yeah, of course,” he agrees easily, already up and looking for socks to put on. you can’t see the light frown on his face as he picks up on all of the little nuances in your voice. “you don’t sound drunk. baby, is everything alright?”

you figured he’d ask, but the expectation doesn’t remedy your hesitation to answer. “i… sort of got into a fight. hit my head real hard and i don’t think i should be driving.”

the split second after your answer is enough to show you sam’s surprise. “jesus, honey, are you okay?” he asks, worry making his voice thick.

“yeah, yeah, i’m okay. promise,” you reassure him. he takes a moment to consider your words; whether you’re lying for his sake or if you’re actually okay. your voice is clear and, though a little tired, sounds like you’re just fine. you don’t seem dizzy or out of sorts, and sam takes that as a good sign considering it was your head that you hit. so, he relaxes just a touch as he climbs into the impala. you hear the car door opening and shutting through the phone speaker.

“so, you got into a bar fight?” he asks, a touch of amusement in his voice. he’s still worried about you, but that wasn’t news he expected to hear tonight, or really any night at all. sure, you never back down from a fight, but you’re certainly not the type to start one either.

you roll your eyes a little at his tone. “sort of. the guy deserved it. i elbowed him in the guts and he shoved me. he looked utterly terrified when i stood back up and he saw the look in my eyes,” you describe, humor finding its way into your voice at the end.

sam wants to give a little laugh at your joke, tell you that he can imagine the man running away with his tail between his legs just from the look in your eye, but he’s still stuck on the fact that he shoved you. on the fact that he did something that warranted you to resort to physical violence. 

he clenches his jaw before asking, “did he try to touch you?” his voice is low as he presses down on the gas harder.

wishing your comment about the man’s scared look would have been successful in distracting sam, you sigh. sometimes, sam is too damn smart and he thinks too damn much.

“he got a little handsy, but i took care of it,” you reassure him. “it’s okay. pretty sure i scared him off so bad he left the bar.”

sam grits his teeth, trying not to react too strongly in a way he knows you won’t like. “i’m gonna beat his sorry ass.” he settles for angry, but not too much, and not even possible since the fucker’s already gone.

“yeah, i know,” you sigh into the phone.

the bar’s only ten minutes from the hotel, and sam gets there faster than that. he walks into the establishment, eyes scanning the crowded place to find your familiar silhouette seated at the bar, your left elbow resting on the counter and holding a rag and plastic bag filled with ice to your head. he rushes towards you, swiftly maneuvering between tables and moving bodies.

he says your name a few steps before he reaches you, as to not startle you, placing a worried hand on your shoulder blade when you turn to look at him. he sucks in a sharp breath when he sees your face. there’s drying blood streaking down the side of your face, and your eyes betray that you’re much more shaken by the incident than you were letting on over the phone. he curses your talent in sounding much more okay than you really are. his jaw clenches and his eyes are worried and angry.

“who did this to you?” his voice is rough, the words forced out through gritted teeth as he fights to stay gentle. you sigh at his words, able to tell immediately how angry he’s feeling.

“he’s gone now,” you say gently, secretly relishing in how protective he is of you. you instantly feel safer, much more secure with him in front of you. “i’m okay,” you say, knowing he needs to hear those words. “i promise. you know that head wounds always look worse than they are. and i wasn’t lying when i said that my glare scared him completely off.”

sam wants to tell you that he’s going to find this sorry excuse of a man, that he’s going to yell at him and hurt him and show him how horrible of a mistake he made by messing with you, but he won’t say all of that. though he’ll certainly think it. he is thinking it. but he knows that’s not what you care to hear, knows that anger is not the face you wish for him to wear.

“i believe that,” he finally settles on saying, voice softening just a little. “let’s get out of here. clean you up. there’s blood all over your face.”

you nod. another time you might quip ‘i know. it’s my face, i can feel it.’ today, you just let him place his hand on the small of your back and lead you out to the familiar black car. neither of you have to say anything to agree that you’ll come back for your own car in the morning.

sam’s silence is large, and yours is heavy. they stretch alongside each other, running out on the road with the spinning tires and escaping through the half open windows so that when sam sits you down on the edge of your shared bed, they’ve almost run out. each silence lasts until he sits next to you, first aid kit in hand, and he gently cups your face to turn it towards him. your eyes are a little shiny, and his face softens.

“i’m sorry this happened,” he whispers. “i shouldn’t have left you alone.” that’s when it hits you how guilty he’s been feeling this whole time, thinking about how nothing would’ve happened if he stayed.

“no,” you shake your head. “no, sam, this wasn’t your fault.” your voice is full of conviction as you say this, because it’s true. “you couldn’t have known this would happen. you only left because you know that i can take care of myself, and i did. i took care of it, and it’s over now. and i’m okay.”

“honey,” he chides, wishing you’d admit to him how you really feel. though he might start crying himself if he has to keep looking at you with so much blood on your face, so he takes the wet cloth he prepared in the bathroom and begins to gently wipe at your bloodied skin. the redness comes off easily, but he still hates the sight of it on the white cloth. “just because we deal with monsters and demons and horrible shit all the time doesn’t mean that creepy, pushy men are any less gross and scary than they really are. just because you can deal with it, doesn’t mean you should’ve had to.”

you purse your lips, then swallow against tears. the feeling of that man’s hand grabbing your wrist hard is still so visceral, and the way that you’d been so taken by surprise that his strength sent you sprawling to the floor still makes you feel sort of embarrassed. and sam’s soft hands and gentle reassurances are so contrasting, so good to you that it makes you a little emotional. 

unconsciously, your own hand drifts to the opposite wrist where the man grabbed you, the sleeve of your dress shirt wrinkled and skin tender from how strong his grip was. the movement catches sam’s eye, and his gaze darkens once again when he realizes how you were grabbed. you see the anger and guilt resurface on his features and you gently grab his wrist instead.

with confidence, you guide his hand to yours and hold it there, looking him right in the eye. your eyes swim with faith and sincerity as you wordlessly tell him that you trust his hands on you, on the places where you’re bruised and bloody.

“it’s okay,” you say, voice hushed and assured. “this… it’s enough, sam. it’s all i need.” just these few words tell him that you don’t care that he wasn’t there when it happened, that his care and comfort in this moment are enough to make it better. that his understanding and worry and protectiveness still mean so much. that things happen, but you’ll be okay so long as he’s there to hold you in the aftermath.

so he does just that. he cleans and dresses your wound, and holds you close on the edge of the bed until you ask to go to sleep. then he holds you under the covers, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and whispering sweet things, until there’s nothing but soft darkness and his touch left, and you’re asleep.