#sigh i am very tired tbh

[crossbackpoke-check]

yOu'Re gOiNg fOr a LiTeR? | "Habs react to Quebec Maple facts", 10.22.24

[allbark-no-bite]

good boy.

art donaldson x reader (wc: 2.9k)

summary: as Art’s personal physical therapist, it’s your job to fix what Tashi has torn apart, by whatever means necessary. or in which Art just needs some TLC

warnings: 18+ smut, it could be worse tbh, mentions of disordered eating

author’s note: i’m back ig?? im out of uni for the summer and challengers has me in a chokehold. Art Donaldson the man that you are

————————————————————————

You're standing just within earshot of the doorway, passing a sanitary wipe over one of the tables in the athlete treatment room when you hear the door abruptly open. Tashi storms in with a purpose and Art trails meekly behind her. Even if you had been clueless to how the match had gone rather than on the sidelines beside Tashi not even twenty minutes ago, you could have guessed by the hard line of her mouth that Art was in for it. Not that her displeased scowl was much different from her usual scowl, but you'd been around long enough to know the difference.

She stops abruptly, and Art heels obediently as Tashi turns around to face him. "I need you to tell me when you're going to fucking get it together so that I can stop wasting my time."

Weary and sweat soaked, Art just stares at her with that pitiful look on his face and says nothing in reply. His blue eyes solemnly take in her harsh disappointment as though beyond used to it. At this point it's not all that foreign to you either.

"You may as well be fucking asleep out there," she snaps.

This time his mouth opens. "I- I'm just tired-" he begins, although there's hardly any argue to his voice at all.

"No, I'm tired, Art," Tashi interjects. "Do you have any idea how much fucking work I've put into getting you back onto the court this past year?! I've done everything! The least you could do go out there and try to act like I've done anything for you at all!"

Art swallows, the slight frown on his face deepening. "I am. I just- I don't-"

Before he can even finish his sentence. The open palm of Tashi's hand connects with his cheek as she pops the left side of his face. Art closes his mouth. You pretend to concentrate on wiping down the table. It's not the first time you've witnessed one of these conversations but it still feels private, like you shouldn't be here. You keep wiping the table.

Understanding that anything else he says is only going to make Tashi angrier, Art resigns to once again watching her in silence. His blue eyes are sad. The usually fair skin of his cheek is tinted pink where she popped him. Although it wasn't very hard, you're sure it still hurt him all the same.

"Quit wasting my time," is all she says before she finally turns and leaves, walking right past you and out the other door. You hold your breath as she passes you. Art watches her go but makes no move to follow. You release an audible sigh. It's been a frustrating day for everyone. As Art's personal trainer, physical therapist, and close friend, you felt every loss, every ache and pain, every bad play. And there seemed to be a lot of those lately.

Art is still standing there, watching the closed door that Tashi left though.

Not knowing how to break the silence, you finally pat the freshly sanitized treatment table. "C'mon," you call gently, as though beckoning to a wounded dog.

It takes a moment for him to budge, but eventually he does, his disheartened spirit apparent in the way he walks over. Used to the usual routine, he tugs his damp shirt off over his head as he takes a seat, the lean muscles of his torso flexing as he does so. You allow yourself to ogle at him, only for a brief moment before stepping in between the bracket of his knees. Gently, you cradle his chin, tipping his head back to look up at you as your thumb smooths over the redness of his cheek. His blue eyes blink up at you, sad and dog-like.

"It wasn't terrible," you reassure him. "You had surgery six months ago. You're still getting your feet back underneath you. Most people wouldn't have come back." You're right. The still-pink scars on his shoulder are still fresh on your mind. The stitches weren't even out before Tashi had him in physical therapy. Even though his medical team had released him, it was still a bit early to start doing rehab so soon after surgery, Art's comfort being your biggest concern. But when Tashi wants something, she gets it.

Wordlessly, Art sighs, the weight of his head settling into your palm as he finally lets go of the tension he'd been carrying. It was always like this. You fixing what Tashi had torn apart. You understood where Tashi was coming from. Art needed a firm voice in his training, and you had a lot of respect for the way she put her foot down and never let up, not even once. But there was only so many times you could kick a dog while he was down.

So if Art needed someone to coddle him, you would coddle him.

He trusts you. He needs you, is what Tashi had told you when she asked you to stay on as his trainer full time. The three of you had been in the same year at Stanford all those years ago, Tashi and Art on the tennis team and you helping out as a student trainer as part of a class requirement. Three peas in a pod, the trio of you were. Of course then they both graduated, leaving you to finish up your schooling, meanwhile Art set off to go pro.

A few years later, once Tashi officially took on the position as Art's coach, she began building his team, and that's where you came in. You were hesitant at first.

'I already lost to you once, Tashi. I won't come in second to you again.'

She had paused on the other end of the line. Back in your Stanford days, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that you were head over heels in love with the blonde tennis player. But loving Art was like accepting the participation ribbon for a game you knew you weren't going to win in the first place. It was like standing next to the podium, just lucky enough to be included in the picture while Tashi and tennis took first and second place. And so you let him go.

'I'm not asking you to. This is different.'

Your hand slips from his face, and he forces his eyes open.

“Have you eaten?" you ask, stepping away in order to put some distance between the two of you and look for the granola bars that you keep especially for him. The gels were good sources of quick fuel in between sets, but they were hardly enough to even begin to make up for the calories he burned while playing.

Slowly, Art shakes his head, but he makes no move to take the snack from your hand when you offer it to him. Ever since his injury, nutrition became all the more important. So much to the point that every single thing that he consumed was mapped out to the exact calorie. Although he would never admit it, any sort of change in this routine made him incredibly anxious. Some days it was better not to cause him the anxiety than to force him.

Today, you insistently hold out the bar until he begrudgingly takes it from your hand. You don't move until you've seen him tear open the package and take a bite.

"Were you still feeling tight?" you ask as you walk around the table, stopping at the slouch of his turned back. You reach out to grasp at the joint of his neck and shoulder, your thumb smoothing over the kinesiology tape that's peeling away at the base of his neck.

He half turns his head to glance back at you. "You watched the match. You tell me."

His response is meant to be snippy, but it comes out more defeated than anything. To be fair, you've been his trainer long enough to know that if something was bothering him physically, you would have picked up on it.

"I want to hear it from you."

"I felt fine."

Your left hand follows suit on the other side of his neck, and you use both of your thumbs to apply pressure to what you assume will be a tense spot along the upper part of his traps. Predictably, Art groans at the attention. The muscles of his back contract as he fights the urge to shake you off. Relaxing the muscle hurts as much as it feels good. Besides his obvious discomfort, the rest of his body has gone lax under your touch. His shoulders have dropped at least an inch, and his chin has fallen to rest against his chest.

"Finish your granola bar," you reprimand him, your firm fingers working across his back until you find another spot that nearly has him jerking away. He releases a whine but obediently takes another bite of the bar. This time he finishes it before you have to remind him again.

You spend a few more minutes torturing him before you're satisfied that a majority of the tension has left his shoulders.

"Okay, good boy," you murmur, leaning forward so that your chest is close enough to brush against his back. One of your hands trails up to squeeze the back of his neck reassuringly.

You're close enough to hear him swallow at the name. The skin on the nape of his neck shivers despite how hot he still is from the match.

"Was I?" he asks timidly. "Good today?"

'I can be his coach. Or I can be the person he cries to after a bad day. But I can't be both. That's why he needs you."

Without removing your hand from his neck, you walk around the table so you're standing in front of him. Art widens the spread of his legs so that you can stand between them. His chin is still pressed to his chest, blue eyes focused on the ground.

"Art," is all you say, shifting your grip on his neck to tug lightly at his golden blonde hair. At your voice, he lifts his head just enough to look up at you through the pale wisps of his eyelashes. The irises of his blue eyes shine are wet with uncertainty.

Your fingers loosen their grip to allow your nails to scratch at his scalp. "You're good, Art. You'll always be good."

Art twists his head to nuzzle his cheek along the inside of  your outstretched arm. His lips kiss the crook of your elbow. He swallows again. "Even if I don't play tennis?"

You can tell the question's been bothering him, eating at his nerves, and messing up his game. You know him well enough to know that retirement isn't what he wants, not really. At least not right now. What he wants is the reassurance that it's going to be okay if he can't swing the comeback.

"Look at me."

He lingers a moment longer with his lips pressed lovingly against your skin before he reluctantly shifts his gaze up to you. His look is anticipatory but reserved, as if to preemptively conceal his disappointment should you choose to crush his heart with your answer.

His fear is understandable. Art's relationship with Tashi has always been entirely built off of his tennis career. By being the driving force behind his success, Tashi has vicariously lived out the life she would have had had her injury never happened. Without tennis, Art has nothing left to offer her. He knows that if he gives up tennis, he loses Tashi.

Your relationship with Art was a little less conditional. Hell, you'd been in love with him since the first time you'd laid eyes on him at Stanford. You can still picture him standing there on the court, barely nineteen, scrawny, nervous smile, backwards cap over his strawberry blonde hair. Before he was the Art Donaldson. But when Tashi had stepped into the picture, you figured that was where your fairytale ended.

"I don't love you because of tennis. I love you because you're kind, and thoughtful, and you're passionate about what you do." You smile a bit before adding, "And you're my good boy."

The name turns him bashful again, and he's quick to turn and hide his smiling face against your arm, only the flushed tips of his ears visible. "[Y/n]," he mumbles, likely meaning to be threatening, but it doesn't come out that way.

Art Donaldson lived to be praised.

You laugh, pulling him closer so that his face is held against your chest. The hand that you don't have threaded through his hair trails up the muscle of his defined quad. "You're my good boy. Aren't you, baby?"

Art whines, squirming when your hand reaches the apex of his thigh and hovers over the forming bugle of his shorts. He's not quite there yet, his dick only half chubbed up in interest, but given the day that he's had, you won't make him wait.

"Please?" he mumbles, his face still buried into your collarbone, as if attempting to curling into you, like a small child needing their parent to hold them for comfort.

You rake your nails lightly up the inside of his thigh. "What, baby?"

Not only did Art liked to be praised, but he was masochist even on his worst days.

"Want you to touch me," he mumbles, his voice muffled by your shirt. "Please."

Your hand still scratching through his hair, you press a kiss to the side of his head, unable to suppress your smile at his timid politeness and how it never seems to fail him. The only time he ever resembled anything remotely voracious was on the court.

Palm finding his tented shorts, you cup him through the fabric. Art responds immediately to your touch, his hips shifting further into your grasp. You continue to pet him through his shorts, appreciating the way you can feel him actively responding to your touch.

His nails dig into the padding of the treatment table when you give his now fully hard dick a less than sympathetic squeeze. His breath is hot as he pants against your collarbone, alternating between laving open mouthed kisses to your skin and whining when you pause fondling him just to feel his hips rut up into your palm.

Art was so in control on the tennis court, that often after a match, putting the control into someone else's hands was just what he needed.

When his hips start to stutter, you ease up but continue to stroke him through his shorts. The front of his shorts are damp with the musk of residual sweat and precum.

His breath is shallow—anticipatory.

"Gunna come?" you ask softly, speaking into the blonde mess of his hair, cradling him. He right there, you can tell by the lackluster buck of his hips, his building fatigue, and the change in his breathing.

"Can I? —Please?" Art asks breathily. He hiccups out the last part, his voice catching.

"You know you don't have to ask."

There's a brief pause, as if coming to the realization, before he meekly murmurs, "I know.

It should be sad really, his unwavering obedience, but there are two sides to Art, two polar extremes. On the court, every match, every set, every debilitating second is up to him. No one else can help him out there, and up until about a year ago, he played like it. That was the side of Art Donaldson that Tashi wanted. After the match is a different story. In private, Art needed someone to do the thinking for him, to pull him into a reality where he could believe that it didn't matter whether he won or lost. Tashi had not the sympathy nor the patience for that kind of fragility.

Art comes with a brief cry into your chest, his body arching into yours. Your hand palms at his pulsing dick until he's oversensitive and pulling away. When you relent, the front of his shorts are sticky and wet.

Finally, Art lifts his face from the safety of your chest. His blue eyes are glossed over, but it's an improvement from the detached look they held ten minutes ago. His cheeks are flushed, a mixture of his own embarrassment and satisfaction. 

You can't help the soft smile that creeps onto your face at the look of him, and immediately Art is abashedly trying to hide his face again, his own smile starting to appear. Before he can, you bring your hands back up to cradle his face, thumbs wiping away the wetness from under his eyes. This time he lets you.

His eyes study your face for a second, admiring you, appreciating the love he has for you.

“I don’t want to play tennis anymore.”

You can’t tell if it’s more of a statement or a confession. Either way, you know he’s telling you the absolute truth.

“Okay,” you reply softly, not hint of judgement in your voice. Maybe some disappointment, but that was understandable.

Retirement would be a kindness. Art would finally put back on some healthy weight, start smiling again, put on a real, actual smile. You could already see it, a nice house for the two of you to settle down in, with a picket fence and a dog in the backyard, the kind of things the two of you would have never had time for on tour.

Tennis had brought the two of you together, but it wouldn’t end you.

[tinylilacbun]

tbh I can't think much about cg!drew, but there can be a certain scenario where drew has been busier than usual with filming/press wtv and has been returning home late, and little!reader can't fall asleep without him so he comes back to see r is still awake at 2 in the morning and he's all worried but then r tells him that they just missed drew, and it's all soft and fluffy as he sleeps with r and it's all warm cuddles 🫶🏼🥹

Drew lets out a long exhale the moment he shuts the front door behind him, tiredly kicking off his shoes and shrugging off his jacket he rubs at his temples as he drags himself towards the bedroom.

Looking down at his watch he sighs. 2:12 am. Another long day finally coming to an end.

He had been very busy lately with all the interviews for obx4 and Queer, grateful for every opportunity but he's just relieved to be home now and crawl into bed beside you.

Opening the bedroom door he didn't expect to see you sitting there awake and watching a show on your iPad, dressed in your pajamas and your jellycat bunny tucked under your arm as you suck on your thumb, a habit Drew knows you only do when you're feeling more little like usual.

"Why are you still up, pretty girl?" He asks, making his presence known and smiles at how your face instantly brightens at the sight of him, discarding your iPad and making grabby hands for him.

At your request he gets over to the bed, sitting down on the edge he wraps his arms around you the second you throw yourself onto his body, laying down to be more comfortable with you at his side.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping already, hm?" He questions and you pout, lifting your head from his shoulder. "What's that face for?"

"Missed you..." You admit quietly, toying with one of the buttons on his shirt. "Can't sleep without you..."

His face softens at that, the admission tugging at his heartstrings. It's been hard for both of you to be separated so much and long the last few weeks but Drew tries his best to always take time for you, doesn't mean that you both just can stop longing for each other.

"Oh baby." He smiles softly, lifting his head from the mattress lightly to peck your lips. "You waited just for me?"

You nod, laying your head back down on his shoulder, finally being able to relax now where you're wrapped in his familiar embrace, only now realizing how tired you actually are.

Drew can feel your body sagging against him, starting to rub his hand up and down your back to help you fall asleep faster, kissing the top of your head. "You can sleep now. I'm here, I got you."

You only manage to hum in response, your eyes fluttering shut at his soothing gesture and your hold on his shirt loosening as you drift off into dreamland, muttering softly. "Luv you daddy..."

"I love you more..." He whispers back, closing his eyes as well, still in the clothes he wore all day but too comfortable and tired to care about changing right now.

All he needs is you at the moment.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu @mylettterstoyou @sunf1ower16 @sweetstars-posts @rafecameronsloverrrrr @rafenroostersgirl

Thought I would tag the Rafe taglist as well:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

[isadollie]

older • toji fushiguro

jjk masterlist | general masterlist

★ toji x fem! reader; they're freshly engaged and toji is so in love, duh ✨

★ a/n: soo i'm alive, hello lol i dont really know what else to say tbh, uni is giving me a real hard time 🥲 hope you guys are doing good and enjoy this tiny lil drabb at least a bit <3 ofc its not proofread oops.

the last few days, were probably the busiest days in your whole life. filled with little disagreements with your boyfriend, no, fiancé. you and toji got engaged a bit more than a year ago, and now it was finally time for wedding preparations.

the big day was approaching really fast, and you felt like there is still so much to do. so many things to decide on, and both of you had your own, very different opinions on a lot of aspects.

you sighed tiredly as you and toji walked down the street, hand in hand. you spent the whole day choosing flowers and decorations, having countless arguments in the meantime. and arguing with toji was never easy - he wasn't ever the type to back down easily.

now you were finally walking back to your car. you didn't even talk, some might have thought you are mad at each other, but it was probably due to being exhausted. although you couldn't lie, some of his ideas earlier weren't really the brightest, which irritated you a bit.

you stole a look at your future husband, his expression slightly cold. was he just tired? or maybe he really was mad at you?

your thoughts were interrupted as you heard a gentle laughter. you curiously looked in front of you again, seeing an elder couple walking nearby. they were holding hands, their faces happy, their gray hair messy due to the little wind. your eyes softened at the sight, and you gave toji a nudge.

"hey, do you think we'll be like them too when we're old?" you smiled, pointing at the couple.

toji turned his head towards them and scoffed. "nah."

your smile turned to a pout and you furrowed your eyebrows, giving him a look. "no? why not?"

a small smirk made its way to his face as he stared down at you. "cause i, will be carrying you in my arms, instead of just letting you walk like that. no matter how old we get." he said with a hint of pride, flexing his muscles.

you raised an eyebrow skeptically. "then why am i walking now instead of being carried?"

toji's smirk turned into a huge grin, and before you could protest, he scooped you up in his arms and began walking faster towards your car. now your laughter was just a bit louder than theirs.

[qtkoshi]

Maybe gn!Reader and Hobie adopt a kitten and the other three (Pavitr, Gwen, and Miles) come to see the kitten? Maybe a orange kitten gn!Reader wanted to name Spunk or Spike while Hobie gave them a spike collar? Would be cute lol

i luv ur brain anon

"you got....a kitten?"

- ok ok idk if this is what u meant, but u can feel free to run this with the bubblegum reader + hobie bc i think it fits alright :-) - also get a little deep with describing relationship,, but it’s necessary for the plot ! (...) - also!!! tysm for the requests; i am very excited to get into them, but will prob wait till tmrw to release bc it is my birthday today <3 much love to you all

──★ ˙ ̟ to the stars ！

general headcannons

alright first of all: hobie with a kitten? i’m in tears. 

i love the hc that hobie has a soft spot for cats and the fact that y’all got one together? bye.

NAPS WITH THE KITTEN JUST NESTLED BETWEEN BOTH OF YOU

this cat is gonna be SPOILED in attention i tell u rn

hobie isn’t as obvious ab it as u, but the amount of times u see him chilling with the cat just perched on his shoulder?? (why are u taking the baby swinging across the city hobie; wait a min now–)

how u got him

imagine this: ur walking past an alley and hear this small little meow; after further investigation you find this tuft of orange fur crying outside the dumpster and

now u gotta take it in what r u talking about!!

bringing him home immediately ; hobie's spidey senses prob picked up the cat's presence before you got in the door.

'baby what's that.' 'c'mon spiderman we got saving to do'

man can't even argue with you

hobie not naming the cat himself bc he doesn’t wanna enforce socio-constructed labels on an unsuspecting creature that can’t consent

u can tho.

and while you very much want to, you tell hobie you gotta think on it for a bit – it has to fit just right!! (tbh he rlly doesn’t mind the cat being nameless, but he’s kinda whipped and will kinda go with what u want if it helps give that pretty lil smile to him again)

spider-squad finding out ab him

the besties r wrapping up something with a fight and hobie’s all k gotta leave and check on the cat and the rest are like ????? 

pav absolutely floored bc how dare did u not mention this sooner hobie

'so you lot wanna come see him?' (inter-dimensional travel ensues) – also never gonna complain ab coming to hobie’s house they all think his place is dope

i’m sure we all know orange cats are fucking crazy and that does not exclude the little gremlin jumping off the walls of your flat rn

hobie ofc is smirking bc his son the cat is a little agent of chaos and he couldn’t be more proud 

you, on the other hand, are just a little tired trying to get the fucker to stay still for a second so u can put on the damn flea medicine

everybody loves him are u kidding (miles a little hesitant tho, he still has beef with the last spiderman-variant cat he met :/ ) 

“so whats its name?” miles was watching with wary eyes as the little ball of fur darted around. with a heavy (and definitely not dramatic) sigh, you walk over to the group “still haven’t picked. we just found him yesterday.”

luv the idea of hobie looking at u anytime ur in the room (stay with me now) — can’t help it u just grab all his attention, maybe stop being so lovely idk

speaking of your relationship: he has spent years battering against everything life throws at him that having your love in the palm of his hands? something to protect not in the way he does as a hero, but in the way to cherish as a person?? give the man a break, he deserves to admire you whenever he can.

anyways hobie’s looking at you before going ‘oh yea’, just grunts and pulls out this little collar with little spikes and their matching and oh my that is so cute

says he found it in some garbage, most def made the collar with some scraps like he did his own (gotta keep it cool yk)

you giddy and putting the collar on the little heathen and just all ‘omg wait a min’

promptly lifting the cat up and “THIS IS SPIKE.”

cue golf claps from the squad with some ooo’s and aah’s

more gen headcannons

remember when hobie and the cat were swinging around the city? yea he's taking that mf everywhere. puts him in his pocket like a little surprise

hobie loves to play fight with the cat

spike is the perfect mix; got hobie’s energy and your brightness it’s a win-win

i could write more but i'll stop here for now 🕸️

⊗

[wosoragebaiter69]

tears streaming down your face

barça femeni x reader, lena oberdorf x reader

request: here

A/N: please tumblr gods, stop giving me sicknesses i write about in sickfics. i am TIRED.

also the the requester i changed it a lil bit - hope it makes you happy (do not ask how this would work, this is fiction. this does not make sense in any reality tbh)

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

As soon as you go down, you know what it is. The worst injury any footballer could imagine. Then, out of nowhere Lena Oberdorf (the defender marking you) can’t seem slow down and when she tries she trips over your good leg. Groaning as her knee hits the ground with a pop. Similar to yours.

Your faces are near each other, both silently empathising with each other when a rush of blaugrana swarms the area. Alexia sensing what your injury could be already.

“Is it?” She doesn’t want to say it, nobody ever wants to hear those letters.

“I think so, Ale I don’t want this please.” You sob, climbing into her lap.

“I know, I know. Deep breathes, you’ll get through this.” You do as told then you hear commotion to the right of you where Lena lays. You listen to the accented angry voices of Claudia and Patri.

“Ay, stop being dramatic. You literally tripped over her now you’re pretending to be hurt? Estúpida.”

“You are telling me you could not stop? Lies.”

As you’re about to tell them to stop, Wolfsburg players have shoved the spaniards away from their hurt teammate. Alex does the same with Lena as Alexia does to you.

Players around and above you are shoving each other and in your opinion it’s all too much. You’re overstimulated, in pain and all you want to do is cry. It seems Alexia notices this.

“Aye, Barça why don’t you be responsible and leave so that both medical teams can come over and do what’s needed for the players.” Her voice is her stern and the German captain agrees telling off her players as well.

When the crowd has gone, medical teams swarm and do the necessary on field tests, both ultimately asking for stretchers. Not a good sign.

You send a small sad smile to Obi, an understanding between you two. No bad blood or anything.

You part ways into seperate areas and get given the rundown. They suspect it’s the ACL, but scans will be needed to determine how bad it is and what type of surgery needs to be done.

You’re deflated, 9-10 months of recovery sounds horrific. They give you crutches, and put ice on your knee allowing you to watch the rest of the match in the stands. When you make it out, the young German is there as well, looking equally as tired.

“So, the three letters?” You ask, focusing on the match.

“Yeah, you?” You nod, sighing.

“It’s all apart of the game, it sucks that we have to miss so much though.”

“Yeah, it really does. Also before I forget, sorry. I didn’t mean to trip over you.”

“Hey, I know you didn’t. Maybe after our surgeries we could meet up sometime.” She stares at you.

“Would you come to Germany?”

“I’ve always loved Germany, it’s so nice there. So yes, I would.” Her eyes light up.

“So this hangout… is it like- a date orrr.” You laugh at her nervousness.

“Do you want it to be?”

“Yes.”

“Then it is, probably shouldn’t tell the teammates about this though. Not just yet, after nearly giving you another injury themselves.” You smile sadly at her, feeling guilty for your friends actions.

“Yeah, if I wasn’t in so much pain I probably would’ve yelled back. But you know I was also held down by a certain scary yet very nice woman.” You agree with that statement. Alexia is the same.

You both talk for the rest of the game and exchange numbers at the end with a promise to see each other soon.

- - - - -

You get confirmation of the rupture later that day, and told that in about a week you would go through surgery.

Alexia has essentially forced you to stay with her because she knows what it’s like and she knows the rabbit holes you could go in. She tries her hardest and you respect that.

She makes you come to training, not for you to watch them but for them to watch you. Jana stays with you in the gym working on her own recovery.

She makes jokes and makes the long week a bit easier, you’re also on your phone a lot. The others think it’s your way of distracting yourself… but it’s not particularly you that’s distracting yourself.

More like a certain Wolfsburg player.

Lena had been good, it was also confirmed for her and she had her surgery as soon as she was back in Germany.

Things were going well, and in 2 weeks there should be another game between your teams and in Germany. Which should be fun.

- - - - -

It’s the day after your ACL surgery, it went well and now you’re hobbling around sad, annoyed and in pain. Some of the team was at Alexia’s house trying to cheer you up but you didn’t even know what you wanted.

Out of nowhere Frido and Ingrid pull you up from the couch saying nothing other than.

“We’re taking her, bye!”

You follow them slowly into Frido’s car and sit in the backseat.

“What is it?” You ask the Scandi’s.

“Hmm don’t think we haven’t seen you messaging on your phone a lot. Do not forget we have also played at Wolfsburg.” Oh, they knew. Of course they did.

“So, tell us everything. Are you coming to Germany with us?” Ingrid asks after Fridolina.

“It was my plan, yes. Also, the thing with Lena is new. I just don’t want to mess up. I think my feelings are growing stronger so I want to do what’s right.”

“Ahh, young love.” The Norwegian says dramatically putting a hand to her chest.

“Ingrid didn’t you nearly go to jail for threatening a man trying to hit on your girlfriend.” Frido snickers at your comment.

“Frido, you are in love with a MAN. Please.” The silence is loud as you laugh at yourself.

“Kid I will murder you.” The blonde says.

“Nooo you’d have an angry German to deal with and their language is already angry enough. Then Ale would cook you.”

She hums in agreement, before conversation turns normal and light, filled with laughter.

- - - - -

You’re in the stadium waiting for the game to start, sitting next to Lena. Talk is small, about recovery and everything in between. It’s comforting to know that someone near you is also going through the same thing.

As the game progresses, so does your chatter. You make plans for afterwards, going to a small restaurant she liked.

By the end of the game, your hands are sealed together and as the final whistle blows, you kiss her cheek and walk to the field.

Maybe this journey for recovery won’t be so lonely.

—————————————————————————

i lost my first cricket match… this one girl can’t catch a ball and does nothing 💀 how is she on the team

also this won’t be a 2 parter because i have no motivation ❤️

[azrakaban]

It's on your nose - Theodore Nott

Summary: baking with Theodore turns messy... I wish you luck

Warnings: none, just a short fluff tbh

CONTAINS FRIENDS SPOILER!

...

"COME ONNNN!" 

"No!"

"Pleeeease? Otherwise you can't copy my charms notes."

"y/n, you copy my notes, not the other way around."

"Technicalities. GET UP!" 

"OKAY NOT FAIR." 

"It could have been icy cold water!" 

"Right, so I'm supposed to be thankful that you only decided to spray me with cold water rather than pure ice?" 

"Yes. Get up." 

"Fine." 

Theodore finally got out of his bed, giving you a faintly annoyed look. "I'm up, what now?" 

"Come with me!" 

You grabbed his hand and pulled a hoodie over his head, grabbing one for yourself as well. Grabbing his hand again you ran out of the room, dragging him behind you. He reluctantly let you pull him, until you let go of his hand. 

"Hey! Not okay yn." 

"What?"

He ran to catch up with you, shaking his head and tutting as he reached you. 

"Don't you dare drop my hand again love. There's no-one here but us, but it's good to know I've still got you."

You smiled back athim, a faint blush coating your cheeks, before turning back and running onwards.

You felt yourself get pulled back, and you stopped running. You turned and rolled your eyes at your boyfriend.

"I love you but it's 2am. I'm not running." He said, giving you an 'are you serious' look?

You continued to drag him, no longer running but speed walking. You heard his sigh of resignation as he fell into step, walking behind you.

Eventually the two of you reached the kitchens and entered, the house elves rushing over to you to greet you.

"Miss yn! Mr Nott..." Came a voice from around about your knees. Looking down you noticed Dobby and Kreacher, glaring at each other but giving wide smiles for you. Well, in kreachers case, a less miserable look than usual but still kind.

"May we help you, miss?" Kreacher said, his voice sounding tired.

"Not exactly Kreacher. How many different kitchen areas are there here and are any free?" You asked, smiling at the two elves.

"KITCHEN EIGHT IS FREE!" Both elves said loudly. They both turned and glared at each other.

"I was going to tell her!" "NO I WAS!" They were like two children vying for their parents attention. You laughed and thanked them before dragging Theodore to the kitchen.

You pushed him into a chair at the counter and started grabbing ingredients out of the cupboards. Music started playing, suited to your personal taste.

"okay whaaaat are you doing?" He asked, seeming wary and slightly curious.

"Committing arson. what does it look like? Getting ingredients!" you said, laughing.

"I got that, but what for?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. (very proud that I can do this icl)

"Cookies, duh, did you not see the chips?" you said, giving him a questioning look.

"You woke me up... at 1am... so that you could bake cookies?" he asked, looking incredulous.

"I think you mean we, but sure. DAMN, how do the house elves reach these things?" you said, reaching up for flour. You stretched on your tiptoes , attempting to reach it.

Giving up, you turned and look at Theodore, who shook his head.

"I am not helping you with this. it was your idea."

You sighed, turning back to the cupboards before climbing onto the counter and kneeling to get the flour.

You felt two hands grab your waist and lift you down onto the ground. Looking up, you watched as Theodore reached up and grabbed the flour, giving you a defeated look.

"Fine. But only because this seems to mean something to you." he said, turning back to the island and grabbing scales out of a drawer.

The two of you worked in silence, his hand occasionally intertwining with yours and squeezing before he had to retract it to pour in ingredients.

Eventually the dough was spooned out onto trays and in the oven. Two arms circled your waist and you were spun around, met by lips.

Theodore's hand slid into your hair, pulling you closer to him.

Eventually, he broke the kiss and pulled you into him, your face pressed against his chest. You felt his lips meet your hair and smiled, pulling back to look at him.

A small smile rested on his lips. "There's still some dough in the bowl. Want to eat it?" He said, nodding at the bowl.

You stared at him for a second. "Oh my god I love you." You said. (picture when Chandler tells Monica he loves her for the first time when she's wearing the turkey)

He laughed. "I know. I think we've established that I feel the same way."

"Really? Have we now?" You said, teasing him.

"Yes. Who else would actually get out of bed for his girlfriend at this time unless it was urgent?" He questioned, holding the bowl and scooping the extra dough into a ball.

"Hmm, I don't know, maybe Draco or Matt-"

A chunk of cookie dough was shoved in your mouth.

"Don't finish that sentence Darling, you've made your point." He said, creating another small ball of dough and putting it in his mouth.

Your tongue was instantly jealous of the dough. (I'M SORRY 💀)

You finished chewing and swallowed the dough. You looked at Theodore, who was looking away from you at the door. His eyes flicked back to you and he swiftly exhaled, laughing lightly.

"What?" You said, looking at him questioningly.

He leaned in and kissed your nose.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." He said, smiling at you.

"Oh really? Tell me or I reveal that you're ticklish on your waist to the others." you said, fingers wiggling and outstretched to him.

"OKAY OKAY! you're despicable, but you had cookie dough on your nose. not anymore though." He said, grabbing your hands in his.

"Well thanks for helping me then." you said, smiling. One of your favourite songs came on and you jumped excitedly.

"I love this song, dance with me!" You said, pulling him into an open area.

Your arms went around his neck and his cradled your waist.

We're dancing round the kitchen in the refrigerator light...

Theodore spun you around, before pulling you back to him and resting his chin on your head. 

"I love you." He whispered into your hair, before dipping his head down and nudging your lips to his.

You both kissed for a while, content where you were before the timer went off for the cookies. He pulled them out of the oven, setting them on the counter to cool.

While you waited, you grabbed his hand and fiddled with his fingers, letting his eyes follow you.

They finally cooled down enough to eat, and you slid them onto plates.

Taking a bite, you sighed at how they tasted.

"I don't know what it is, but 2am cookies hit different."

His eyebrow rose again. "Have you done this before then?"

"No, but they taste better than normal ones." you said, smiling.

He sighed and pulled you close to him, his cookie already gone and swallowed.

He wiped his fingers off on some kitchen roll, getting the stickiness from the cookies off his hands. His fingers played with the ends of your hair, drawing patterns on your back.

"I surprisingly don't regret this. But I miss my cookie. It was good chocolate in them."

"Well, that's good. you've still got some." you said.

"Where?" He said.

"Well Theo, it's on your nose."

...

Later after packing up the ingredients and putting them away, piling the cookies into a Tupperware, you returned to Theo's dorm.

On the pillow lay two Polaroids. They showed you and Theodore dancing in the kitchen, foreheads rested against each other. A note was placed next to them, written in scrawling handwriting.

"Dobby and Kreacher wouldn't stop arguing over it, so I took these for you. -Winky"

You smiled before putting them on his bedside table and curling up next to your boyfriend. You were tired.

...

I'm sorry for the all too well reference, they're not breaking up I just thought of it!

I wrote this late so excuse me if it needs editing. love you all!

[redbleedingrose]

Hey it’s the anon that had the nightmares. Headcanons about dealing with nightmares would be absolutely amazing if you’re up for it, thank you so much. You truly have no idea how much you’ve helped me 🥺

Of course dear!!! Here you go!!! (sorry this took so long sweetheart)

Edit: This ask has been sitting in my drafts for months and I am so sorry I didn't post it until now. Writers block and general insecurity does crazy things to me.

How the Bat Boys would help you with your nightmares!

Rhysand

Okay, the thing about Rhys is that I think he remains fully aware of your presence at all times, even in his sleep. He can feel you next to him, your body pressed against his, your heart beat thumping at his side, the weight of your head on his shoulder, he can feel it.

He also, is very in tune with your emotional state. Maybe it has to due with your mating bond, but tbh, I think his love for you has brought him a number of powers that allows for the deepest sort of connection to you. He can feel the emotions that you feel. It can go as far as Rhys feeling the roof of his mouth ache when you burn your mouth from drinking too hot tea, it can go as far as him feeling like someone has poked him hard when he is entirely alone in his office (when it is Cass who is poking at you, whining at you to share your summer imported mandarain oranges with him) and if Rhys really sits on it, he can also feel your mixed emotions of amusement and teasing towards Cass in that moment.

So I think that if you were having a nightmare, Rhysand would know. He would feel your heart racing from fear, it would make his own stutter. He would feel the panic pumping through your veins, and it would nearly send him into a frenzy.

Rhys would be awake, shushing your tired whines, and peppering the softest kisses all over your face to slowly ease your mind. The high lord of night would absolutely slip into your mind like butter, easing all the fired up neurons that have built up from your nightmare, slowly detangling the knots of emotion twisted inside your mind without waking you. He would pull you impossibly close, his heart beating against yours, his hands tangled in your hair, rubbing at your scalp, and naturally, you tuck your forehead into his neck, a quiet sigh leaving your once quivering lips.

Your nightmare would have dissolved without your knowledge, and you would be lulled into a dreamless sleep with your mate holding you close, his warm cheek resting on your head with one hand resting at the back of your neck and the other hand stroking up your spine, protecting you from anything and everything, even your own mind. You would wake up without any memories of the nightmare, and if I am being honest, Rhysand wouldn't want to remind you of it either, so he keeps this part of his duty towards you to himself.

Cassian

I am not gonna lie, this male is a heavy sleeper. He is dead to the world once his head hits the pillow. And he freaking snores too. Actually, he is famous for how loud he snores. Cassian can be heard snoring from across the house of wind. And initially, it was really hard for you to fall asleep to. In fact, you would force Cass to stay awake until you fell asleep because you just could not with his snoring.

And now?? Now this fucking male has you unable to fall asleep without his snoring. You need his heated, and I mean this male is a literal furnace, nearly naked body beneath you, with his burly arms wrapped tight around your waist, with your head pressed against his male tits, your legs tangled with his, in order to fall asleep. The snoring has become its own sort of white noise to you, and without it?? You will stay up the entire night and be extremely grumpy the next morning, often resulting in the back of Rhysand's head getting smacked for his taunting. (if Cass is out on a mission for longer than a day or two, Rhys actively avoids you for fear that you will end up choking him for sending his general away. Not that that has ever happened before.... nope... never................)

So. On good nights, you are usually snoozing it away with your hunk of a male, and you end up waking up to a lovely "surprise" poking at your tummy and a male who is too turned on by you to be ashamed in the slightest.

On bad nights though, on nights where you worry about Cassian, on nights where all of your fear of losing your loving mate culminates into nightmares, don't ever doubt that Cass wouldn't be there for you. Cassian is the general of the night court of a reason. He, like Rhys and Az, has been trained, for centuries, to be aware of his surroundings, even in his sleep. So while he might sleep heavy, his body are attuned to taking note of his environment, and that means, his body and his bond is focused on you throughout the night.

So he does wake up to you tensing, to your quickened breathing, to your restlessness, immediately too. His eyes would snap open, with his arm around your waist firm and tight, his other automatically reaching for the dagger he has hidden under his pillow, looking out for any signs of immediate danger to you. Not to himself. To you. His instinct does not edge towards self preservation. It hasn't since he met you. His instinct is to protect you at all costs.

Once he realizes that there isn't any physical threat that is causing your distress, his attention goes back to you, an ache burrowing itself in his chest as he notices your hand is clenching into a fist against him, as he notices your face is screwing up in fear, as he notices your body shaking. His mouth drys at the sight of you looking so scared, and he wouldn't be able to help himself.

Cass would murmur quiet reassurances, rubbing at the space between your shoulder blades and planting kisses onto your furrowed brows, "wake up sweetheart, s'jus a nightmare" and "shhh, I got you love, I'm here" and "s'okay baby, you're fine" and "c'mon, that's it, that's my girl, wake up f'me beauty"

When you wake with a start, he hushes your cries and pulls you in even closer. He would turn you both onto your sides, your front melding against his with his arm tucked under your head and around your hip with his leathery paper thin wings shield you both from the outside world. It's this warm cocoon that he forms around you where you spend the rest of the night and into the early morning.

At first, you would apologize for waking him up so early, knowing that he has training in the morning with Az and the others, but he dismisses that immediately, stressing to you that his only concern, at this time and forever, is you. He would stay awake with you, attentively listening to your ramblings about your nightmare, playing with the ends of your hair while you tell him all your secret fears. And he would kiss you and promise to protect you no matter what, and he would promise to keep you safe. Eventually, you would end up falling asleep, the closeness of your mate, his gentle breathing, and the warmth he brings relaxing you enough to a dreamless rest. And Cass, the ever diligent and loving male, would stay awake for the rest of the morning, skipping out on training to watch over the love of his life and make sure that you don't have any other nightmares.

In the morning, after you wake up feeling rested, Cass would finally let you go, a soft kiss to your lips and a wink in goodbye, only to come back within ten minutes, bringing you some warm, fresh chai that he made for you with some oatmeal that you both share in bed together. You spend the rest of the day cuddled up with your mate with slow and sweet love making, hushed oaths to each other to protect one another, and long naps in between.

Azriel

Azriel is a completely attuned to you. And so are his shadows. He has one that you have noticed that constantly follows you around, that learns every single thing about you to report back to its master. And then there are a couple that you haven't noticed. Ones that stay hidden in the darkness with full intent to take care of anything that puts you in harms way. And it stays that way always, regardless of the timing.

So at night, when your heart rate jumps, your blood pumping through your veins, your eyes furrowing shut too tightly, the slightest bit of sweat breaking out on your skin, they are the first to notice. And they are the quick to notify their master about it, hurridely slithering to his ears to wake Az so he can help you.

Azriel would initially try to soothe you in your sleep, his heart aching at the thought of you being afraid of something he can't control. A quick command to his shadows has the curtains to your balcony eased apart, the light from the moon and stars beaming in through the large glass doors. His scarred hands would stroke at your cheeks ever so gently, your mating bond humming at the barely there touch. Az wouldn't hesitate to place his lips in the space between your brows, moving from one soft edge of your face to the next with small pepperings of kisses.

He would thumb at your edge of your jaw, the calloused tip of his finger reminding you in your sleep that he is there. That he didn't leave sometime in the night. That he would never leave. That he would always be there to protect you. To care for you. To love you. He knows that you have your own traumas that you deal with, and he wants you to feel in control of your problems. Nightmares... they make you feel out of control. And he is there to give the power right back to you.

Most nights, Azriel's simple touch is enough to soothe you. I'm ngl, it does stroke his pride a little (a lot) that he is able to calm his mate with just the touch of his hands. With something that he used to keep hidden behind his back when he talked to others, something that he would cover up from the shame of his past, something that he feared would one day lead to a disgusted look on your face. And on those nights that his touch is enough, once you are settled, he pulls you closer to him, tucking his arm around your waist and wrapping one of his large wings around both of your figures, burying his face into your neck so he can fall back asleep to the feel of your pulse against his skin.

On the nights where the nightmares are just too much, where you are too deep in the dream that you can't feel anything but the fear, Azriel will wake you. He loathes the thought of disturbing your sleep, he hates that you will most likely not feel rested in the morning, but his heart shatters into the tinest pieces when he can feel the end of your mating bond crying out for him in your sleep. So he lays a firm hand on your forehead, his other hand rubbing at your shoulder, tenderly shaking you awake: "wake up my love, it's alright," and "you're fine my sweet girl, I'm here," and "I promise I'll always be here my dove, now be a good girl for me an wake up"

He would hush you as you startle awake, the jolt of your body causing him to wrap his arms tightly around you with mumbled, "that's it, there's my starshine" and "s'okay moon, it was just a bad dream" and after a good long while of him calming you down, he would whisper into your hair with a final kiss to the top of your head, "c'mon love, let's get you something to drink."

Azriel wouldn't let you lift a finger or a toe for that matter. Male would take your comforter and wrap you up like a burrito and then carry you all the way down to the kitchen where he settles you onto the counter, sending you the most beautiful, tired smile while he makes you some chamomile tea. He would be slow in each of his steps, the small smile on his pretty lips never leaving his face as he feels your gaze watching his every movement. He adores doing things like this for you. He craves doting on you. He thinks you are his treasure. A gift from the mother herself. And he plans to make sure you feel that way, all the time, forever, until you and him only exist as stars in the night sky.

A/N: 😫🫠🥲 Sorry this was a bit repetitive, but I hope you liked it ❤️❤️❤️

[wintfleur]

ꔫ jealous woman?!

°. — pairings ( Oscar piastri x drunk female! reader )

°. — summary ( calling your drunk girlfriend jealous = tears )

°. — details ( g; fluff, humor? w; drunk reader. wc; 561 )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I have no idea what this is tbh, I wrote it in like 30 minutes after I watched a tiktok. I hope you guys enjoyed this! I actually had fun writing it I also wanted to say how proud I am of Oscar in his rookie year! He did so good! )

“You were talking to her! And you were smiling!” you shouted, your words coming out a little slurred from all the alcohol you had throughout the night. You had your arms crossed and you did your best to glare at your boyfriend who was standing across from you in the living room of your shared apartment. But it was more adorable than angry. 

“I was being polite! She was asking for suggestions on taxis to get her and her girlfriend home” Oscar voiced loudly, emphasizing the girlfriend part. He had tried to stay calm but after a whole Uber ride home of the silent treatment it was finally getting to him, he had to remind himself that his adorable girlfriend was very much drunk. 

The two of you had been out at the club with a few friends, and you were dancing when you noticed your boyfriend talking to another girl, you didn’t like how close she stood to him or the way he was smiling. Now the two of you stood in your living room, you dressed in some Pj pants and one of his shirts and Oscar was still wearing the clothes he wore out, he was too focused on defusing the situation to change. 

“She stood too close to you, and you didn’t even care” you said much quieter, your throat hurting from shouting and all the screaming along to the lyrics you did at the club. Your drunk mind started to play tricks on you, and you started to tear up the more you thought about the situation. 

“You’re the most jealous woman I know!” Oscar shouted as he threw his hands up before resting them on hips, he wasn’t upset with you he was just tired and in shock at what was going on. How did he get himself in this situation? Oscar clearly didn’t notice your watery eyes because if he did, he would have never raised his voice or said those words. 

“You know other women?” Your voice came out small and pitiful, tears slowly rolled down your face and your arms fell at your sides. Oscar’s shoulders sunk and he sighed, his poor girl was too drunk to fully understand what was happening. He stepped towards you and was quick to pull you into his arms for a hug “Awe baby.” 

“Pretty, you are the only woman for me” he speaks sweetly, holding you close to his chest. Knowing that the only way to calm you down was having you close and safe in his arms. His reassuring words let you melt into his arms, tightly holding onto his waist while he hugs your shoulders. 

“Promise?” You sniffled, your voice coming out muffled, but Oscar heard you clearly. Your eyes closed, you felt so tired all of a sudden and the warmth from Oscar was not helping you stay awake. 

“I promise pretty” he promises as he rubs your back softly with a smile on his lips. You tilt your head up to look at him, your chin resting on his chest. Oscar smiles and softly pecks your nose before pecking your lips, his thumbs softly wiping away any tears that were still on your pretty face. He spoke quietly, seeing the tiredness in your eyes.

 “Now let’s go to the bathroom, you forgot to take your makeup off on your left side.” 

°. — taglist ( @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom )

[screaminglygay]

KINKTOBER day 5

pairing: ghostface! sam carpenter x fem!reader

summary: you and sam are besties, but do you tell each other everything? (what is this? i dunno)

warnings: smut!!!, dom!sam x sub!reader, sam is a big meanie for a little, spanking, degradation, dirty talk, swearing, killing mentioned, tiny bit of knife play, slapping, crying, not proofread, if anything else, let me know - I’ll add it

word count: 4.4k

an: enjoy I guess, let me know your opinions, also thanks for so much support with wanda, tbh I though that it won’t do this great, but it did and all of you are so horny freaks, including myself, but truly I appreciate it!!!💕💕

(italics = your thoughts)

!MDNI!

Enjoy this spooky season and be safe!

The phone rings again, hidden caller. Picking up a secret number is really not your style. You let it ring, if they truly need you, they will write you a message.

Buzz.

Oh and they do need something important. You take your phone and look at the notification.

Hidden number

8:36PM

Call me ASAP, please! I can´t open the excel!

You calmed down a little bit as it was probably your classmate and accidentaly made their phone number hidden. Taking a deep breath before calling someone was always your go to thing, since the whole situation is very stressfull, you´d much rather write a long paragraph over a text, then just call someone. But since it´s about school, you´re less nervous.

You finger touch the last missed call and it starts to ring, as soon as you see that the other side picked it up, you started to speak.

"Hey! Sorry, I didn´t hear the phone. Anyways what´s going on with that file?" You took your notebook in case you have to make step by step tutorial to your classmate, because it wouldn´t be for the first time.

"No one ever told you lying is bad, (Y/N)?" You didnt recognize the voice, it wasn´t a voice you remember anyone having from your class, or the whole school. It was deep, raspy and mostly scary. You didn´t like horrors very much, but you were positive that you´ll get prank called or jumpscared by some idiot. And here they are, idiot on the line, at least that´s what you think.

"Haha very funny..." You´re mostly annoyed, but there is this side of little you, who is hoping this is truly your idiot classmate and no one else. "Do you wanna help with the sheet or not?"

Long big sigh can be heard on the other side. "And I thought you were a nice girl, (Y/N). Guess I was wrong. Don´t worry, we´ll work on that."

Now your little scary thought became a little bit bigger. You weren´t so sure it was someone you know.

"Who am I speaking with? Sorry, I don´t have your number added." You hoped they would say your name, you would stop panicking and it would be done it two minutes.

"Someone who likes to play games. (Y/N), would you like to play a game?" the raspy voice asked.

"No, thank you." Out of nervousness and mostly fear you hang up. You didn´t even realize until you stoped hearing the rapsy breath. Even if there was a truly a classmate who wanted a help, they shouldn´t prankcall you. Gosh how much you hated these things.

The phone didn´t ring again for quite some time, so you just let it go. Taking a long shower sounded like the best idea now. Out of the closet you took oversized shirt and some shorts and you headed to the bathroom. Doing your usual skin care routine went on automatic and brushing your teeth as well.

Coming back to your room, you notice that you left your closet opened, you sigh and close the door. Being too tired to prepare your clothes for tomorrows school day. As you lay on your bed, you hug your big teddy bear and your eyes immedietly close as you drift to sleep.

...

The next day goes smooth, first lecture was actually really interesting and you didn´t felt tired at all. You had your morning coffee and today was just a good day, you could feel it. You didn´t have those in a while, so it is very welcome.

Second lecture was indeed boring, but at least you know that the human eye blinks an average of 4 200 000 times a year, which is... a new information, that´s for sure. But the professor ended class sooner, so at least you had more time for lunch. And that´s a plus.

As you´re sitting alone, eating your lunch on a bench in a park, where you like to spend your free time between the classes, someone taps on your shoulder.

"Oh hi, Sam!" You smile, seeing your friend always makes your day better. "What are you doing here, I thought you´re working today." You scoop so Sam can sit next to you.

Sam met you when you were running late, literally. You two bumped into each other few months ago and because you spilled your coffee on her, you just had to pay for it somehow. So after you quickly gave her your number and basically sprinted out, Sam made sure you´ll keep your promise. And you did, few days after that you two met again and over a coffee realized how much things you two have in common.

She seemed like a cold and closed of person at first, but she is actually the sweetest teddy bear, as you like to call her for fun. Sam told you many times she hated it, but you made a good points that she is just so sweet, big and you feel safe when you´re around her, just like with teddy bear in your bed. And she was a taller than you, so that´s another point. After few "arguments" she actually let you win, so she is now your big and protective teddy bear.

You two started to hang out more and more, which just confirms your initial click, that Sam felt as soon as she laid her eyes on your sweet and innocent face.

"Well maybe I lied and I wanted to suprise you." Sam answers as she sits next to you.

"I am surprised," you giggle. "I have like a hour and something before my next lecture, so..." You look at your phone.

"Good." Sam smiles and tilts her head, she notices that you´re smiling ear to ear. "What got you smiling like that, (Y/N)?"

"Hm... nothing in particular, but it´s just a good day. And I´m enjoying a every single bit of it." You answer and your cheeks start to hurt a bit from all the smiling, you did in the last 10 minutes.

"Oh, I see. As you should." She nudges your arm with hers. "What are you doing after school?"

"I have to finish some excel to my statistic class, but besides that... nothing." Your thoughts are taking you back to last night and your weird call, with who you thought was your classmate.

Sam notices your smile fading and put her hand on your thigh, something she did pretty often, but it brings you butterflies everytime. "(Y/N)?"

"Hm? Yeah?" Sam just raises her eyebrow. "It´s nothing, I just had this weird person from school call me yesterday and... yeah, it was weird. A stupid prankcall." You roll your eyes.

Sam move her hand on your thigh up and down, trying to sooth you. "What did they say?"

"Just some stupid stuff, like do you want to play a game. Do I look like I want to play a game?" You sigh.

"Depends on the game. Horor game? Probably not. The Sims 4? Absolutely yes." Sam chuckles as you punch her arm.

"Every woman has her needs, mine is playing The Sims. Can you blame me?" You laugh, Sam always helps you with your bad and anxious thoughts.

The rest of your free time you two shared a lots of laughs, smiles and overall a good quality time together. Until you had to go back to your lectures, which made your day a little worse, since you wanted to keep talking to Sam.

...

Few hours later you finally finished all of your lectures for the day. You didn´t have that energy boost as you did this morning, but you´re still in a good mood. So you decided to walk from school back to your dorm. And even if it was October, it was still kinda warm outside so you put some soft music on and decided to walk.

Stepping into your dorm you notice that something is bad, you can´t point a finger on what it is, but the vibe seems off. Shaking off the feeling didn´t help for long, because as soon as you reach for your keys the ligh on the other side of the hall just turn off.

"Shit!" You flinch and your hands start to shake. As you succesfully get inside you lock your door faster than ever.

"Oh my god-" you take a few deep breaths. "It was just a light, (Y/N), everything is good. It was just a light." Mumbling out loud these words, in hopes that it will calm you down.

You turn all of your lights in your home on as a prevention for your mind from creating something that is not there. Lastly you go to your bedroom and open the door, you stop in your track in a moment when your eyes met a tall black figure next to your opened closet.

A cold shivers run down your spine, but with confidence it´s just your mind playing tricks you turn on the light even there.

But that choice just showed you, that this time, it´s not your mind playing tricks, but there is actually someone in your house. A tall black silluete turned into a big person with a black cloak and a white mask, looking like a ghost. You´ve seen this mask many times during Halloween parties. Quickly scanning the person you notice that they´re holding a knife. A knife!

"Oh fuck!" You qiuckly close your bedroom door, hoping you will get more time, but of course you had to lock all of your locks and jumping from a window was not an option since you´re living in the 9th floor.

Shit, shit, shit. Wait... I don´t hear anything.

The only thing that you can hear is your heartbeat, no steps, no breathing, just your heart. Looking back, noticing that the door you slammed shut before are now open again.

Your living in your worst shitty nightmare.

It´s a tap on your shoulder that almost makes you lose it. You let out the most horror scream in your entire life, you didn´t even think you could scream like that. The tall person with ghostface mask is standing right next to you, they shake their head and one of their hands makes it over your mouth to keep you shut. As soon as your bodies hit the floor, which suprisingly didn´t hurt at all due to all the adrenaline you have in you, right now. They pull their knife to your face and slowly slide it across your cheek, not hurting you in any way.

Your breathing gets faster and faster to the moment you feel like you start to hyperventillate.

"Hello, (Y/N). You cut our call last night, so I felt like meeting you in person, again, would help us solve the excel problem. Don´t you think?" It was the same raspy, deep voice you heard yesterday over the phone.

"I- uh s-sure." You nod as you mumble your answer agaist her hand, noting better came to your mind.

"Sure? Now you don´t have a problem with that, but yesterday you cut me off like I was a fucking no one?!" Now you were truly hoping that this is just a nightmare and you will wake up. "Isn´t it fair if i cut you off too? So you would now how it feels?" Their knife is swinging infront of your face again.

"I- No, please, don´t. I- i uh I´m sorry!" You mumble agaist their hand.

The person on top of you just laughs and bring your hand above your head and now you can´t move at all.

"I think it´s fair, you know how shitty I felt? And today you´re doing like nothing happened? Like I was just.. what did you described me as... as a weird person who said stupid stuff?" Their face coming closer to you. "I think it´s fair to show me some fucking respect." you feel a slight sweet cologne coming from that person.

A scent you know very well, It starts with a fresh burst of citrus, like a mandarin. With a little hint of vanilla and amber adds depth and warmth. This scent is a subtle and comforting, like a cherished memory to you. A cherished person, you know too well.

It can´t be...

Your eyes shift, looking over the mask again, your eyes anaylzing from side to side, like you´re trying to read their mind through the eyes on the mask.

They tilt their head again, the knife slowly going away from your face. You hope that what you thing is just a big misunderstanding, it can´t be her. Not your Sam.

"Sammy?" You mumble as their hand is going away from your mouth. Few tears forming in your eyes.

"Oh look at you, you figured it out." She takes her mask of and it was like a bullet straight through your heart. "Now be quiet or I´ll shut you up." She picks you up, like nothing and wallks quickly into your bedroom.

This was not your Sam, not your friend, she look like her, but her actions were the exact opposite of your comfort person.

She throws you at the bed and you´re now laying on your stomach, she comes closer to you again and whispers into your ear.

"Every woman has her needs, mine is playing with you, (Y/N). Can you blame me?" She chuckles as she repeat what you´ve said earlier. "Ass up." She put her hands on your hips and you put your ass up, as she told you. Too scared to do anything else. "Good girl." Sam praises you.

"S-Sam.." you whine out between with your tears streaming down your face.

"Oh shush, did no one told you to speak nicely about your friends? And not talk-" she spanks you, hard, "shit about your friends?" Sam spanks you again, this time it was even harder.

"I´m sorry, Sam- I didn´t-" you try to talk, but it´s hard when your face is burried in the pillows.

"I. Dont. Want. To. Hear. It. Now." Her voice was harsh and so was her hands on your ass with each words she growls into your ear, even when you have your clothes on, it still hurts too much. "Just take what I give you and then we might talk." Without any warning she takes your pants off, slicing your shirt and throwing it away.

"No bra?" Sam laughs. "You went the whole day without a fucking bra, you´re so pathetic, (Y/N)." She runs her knife on your back, she´s doesn´t want to hurt you really, at least not right now. "You did this on purpose? You´re look so innocent, but you´re not so innocent, are you?" Her hands find its way on your tits, she give them a tight squeeze and you can´t help, but let out a big moan.

You like this, which shock you more than the fact, that Samantha Carpenter broke into your house, just to play with you.

Her big strong arms, oh god how much you love her amrs. The way they hold you during your sleepovers, how they caught you everytime you walk into the street without looking both sides, or how they always brought comfort to you. Everytime.

But now? It´s totally different now, at least that´s what you think and Sam noticed that. And she can´t have you be thinking this much, when she wants to have her sweet time with you.

Her hands playing with your nipples, pinching each one very hard for you to come back to her. And you did, you realize just now that you´re not crying anymore, you´re just a moaning mess.

"You´re doing so good, look at you, mi amor, taking all the spanks as a punishment for how mouthy you were." You can sense the smile in her words and it´s like your Sammy is speaking to you, which instantly make your worries go away. Your body relaxes againt her and she can feel it, it´s like a small win for her. "Good, just like that."

You moan once again, it was more a needy moan than anything else. One second you´re on your stomach and the other one, you´re on your back, Sam holding your waist to scoop you closer to herself. She´s still wearing the black cloak, that don´t scare you anymore. If anything it is kinda attractive, that she´s still in her clothes and you´re just in your panties.

Looking at her with needy eyes was something that Sam saw a many times. Begging her to pick you up after school, or give you her hoodie, when you were cold. Or those many times when you cannot reach something, because it was way to high.

But this time you have this spark in your eyes, the good girl was gone, now Sam could really see the needy whore, who hid under the inoccent cover for the whole time. And this time Sam takes this as the ultimate win.

"Please-" you whine.

The most confident smirk appears on Sam´s face as her hands runs down your body, finally kissing your neck. "Please what?" Sam asks you between those sloppy kisses.

You let out another whine.

"I´m letting you speak, if i was you, i´d better use it." She bites your neck, which will definetly make a nasty bruise.

"Use me." Your move your head, so Sam has better acces to your neck.

"Oh wow, such a fitlhy words, for such a pretty little girl." She chuckles as she keep kissing your neck, her hands finding your tits again.

You never knew your nipples were this sensitive, but Sam knows. Of course she does. You feel as her hands are grooping your breasts, but you´re not satysfied, you want to see her, so you tug on her cloak and let out a whine.

"What?" She mumbles agaist your neck and then she pulls away to make eye contact with you.

"I wanna see you." You tug on her cloak again, "please."

Sam without a beat took her cloak off and she was now in her black underwear, sitting on top of you as your eyes wonder. She gives you a little time for checking her out and god you could stare at her for days. The light in your room making her muscles look even sharper, not that she needs it, but you just can´t have enough of her.

"You´re not so sad now, huh?" She smirks again, fuck how much you hated that confident smirk. Without waiting for your actual response, she dive back, her lips on your neck, making sure that after tonight everybody knows who do you belong to.

After a few minutes of Sam being basically a vampire, she starts to kiss her way down, slowly as she stops at your nipples again. Slowly, but hasrshly sucking on them, making sure to keep an eye contact with you. " Keep your eyes at me." You could cum just from watching her.

She treats you like a blank canvas, and as a skilled artist, she must make sure that you are painted with her in the end and with a pleasure you won´t forget.

Her big muscular hands are sliding down your body, pinching your inner thighs to tease you. She knows what you want, but she won´t give in that easily, even when you´re looking at her with those cute and innocent eyes.

Your hands are sliding off your panties, but Sam qiuckly takes your hands. "They are staying on and keep your hands above your head." Her raspy voice sends shivers down your pussy, that is now drenched, because of her touches and skilled movements.

You put your hands back above your head, wiggling a little to show Sam how impatient you are. She just sends you a quick slap on your thigh and you giggle.

Her finger slowly going up and down your clothed pussy, you can already see how wet your panties are and if Sam wasn´t that needy, she would make fun of you. Seeing you like this gives her so much power and let´s be real you are really feeding her ego.

"Sam!" You move your hips up, hoping she will actually do something.

"(Y/N)!" She mocks you with innocent smile on her face.

"Fuck- I need your fucking hands in me or I swear I´m gonna lose it!" You did lose it already.

"You want my fucking hand in you? You like my hands?" Sam whispers.

"I do! So much! I need your big hands in me, please!" You shift towards her again.

"Aww pretty little girl, do you think that your pussy will take my big hands?" Sam´s finger barerly toucing your slit.

"Yes! I can take it!" You think that you will be crying from the frustration.

"Say it."

"My little pussy will take your big fucking fingers! Hands! Whatever you give me, I can take it, Samantha!" You groan.

"Oh you´re using my full name, you really need it, huh?" She smirks again, but your wish is her command and in the end she wants to make you feel good. Pushing your panties to the side, your juices are everywhere and god she loves it.

"Is this for me?" Sam softly asks.

"Only for you." You give her a small smile.

"In that case-" she slides her two fingers in you, slowly pushing in and out. Sam already feels your pussy pulsating and her fingers get almost swallowed by you. "Oh wow, I was so wrong about you and I´m so happy I was." She adds another finger.

You whine, you feel aready so close, your pussy is feeling like it´s on fire, your hips going up and down and Sam´s just enjoying the view. You want more, so you feel like grabing Sam´s hand is a good idea. She raises her eyebrow and slip her fingers out of you.

You whine out, immedietly feeling empty, you feel like you gonna burst out, you really need to cum, but now you lost everything that felt good.

Sam slaps your pussy one time, but damn it´s painful. "I said, keep your hands to yourself." Her fingers slides quickly back into you, both of you know, that you´re very close.

"Ple-" you can´t even finish the word without a moan.

"Go on, scream. I want you to fucking scream my name, mi amor." She uses both of her hands now, one sliding in and out of you and the other one playing with your clit, which is something that gets you over the edge pretty easily.

Your whole body flex under her touch, this is the best release you ever had, it felt better than anything in this world, she definetly know what she´s doing. As you scream her name, Sam slows down her movements, for you to ride it all out, without being too overstimulated.

Sam gives you two kisses on each of your inner thighs and then kiss her way back up. She´s smiling and you are too.

The atmosphere went from being scared of your life to you having THE time of your life.

"There you go, little girl. How are we feeling hm?" Sam whispers into your ear as she wraps her strong hands around you.

"Fucking confused." You let out a small giggle.

"Watch your tone, young lady." Her hand squeezes your wrist.

"I- I´m good. Just... what just happened?" You lean into her.

Sam laughs as you´re confused. "You know I hate Halloween, you scared the living shit out of me with this prank, Sam. If you wanted to... you know, you could´ve just asked. I though you were some murderer!" You lazily mumble as you are half asleep already.

"Yeah and I love Halloween and asking you for a fuck session is not so fun. Me a murderer? Oh please." She kisses your head.

"Hmm.. whatever." You are too tired to have this conversation with her.

As you fall asleep in the arms of Samantha Carpenter you felt happy, today was really a great day.

Sam made sure you were dead asleep before getting up from the bed, but as soon as she did, you instantly start to move in discomfrot. She quickly grab your teddy bear and made you cuddle him instead and her plan worked. Cute smile was on your face again and Sam was glad you had this stuffie here as a replacement for her, when she needs to do her job. She knew you will be overthing when you woke up to an empty bed, so she quickly scribble down a note.

"I´ll call you later, I had to go to work, -s"

She took her knife that was laying on the ground, take on her cloak and last but not least take on her ghostface mask and went to work.

She was never a murderer, she was and still is just a protector. Especially when it comes to you.

…

Of course you had to call Sam, when you heard the news.

"Hi, how is my sleepyhead?" She chuckles into the phone.

"Hey, um... did you hear the news?" You quickly say to her, as you´re almost out of breath.

"What news?" She asks you.

"There was a murder, someone in a ghostface mask was seen few streets from my dorm. They killed a girl from my statistic class, I mean... I didn´t know her, but it´s still scary." As you say this, goosbumbs appear on your arms.

"Oh shit, that´s... scary even for me. Are you okay?" Sam asks with concern.

"Yeah, I didn´t know her or anything, but it´s crazy. Especially when you can buy the mask anywhere, since you have it too." You ramble over the phone.

"Right. It´s like I killed her, right?" Sam responds.

"Sam, don´t joke about these things. Can you maybe come to mine after work?" You really need her, to protect you and make you feel safe again.

"Give me 15 minutes." And with that Sam hang up. Drove away from the empty parking lot, where she watched your classmate, Tony. She heard a few stories from you, that Tony was being a dick during your presentation and no one can be a dick to you. No one.

And today is Tony’s lucky day, because you need her now and that´s way important. When she´s with you, no one can hurt you.

Only she can and that´s how it should be all the time.

Thank you for reading! Have a great day!!! And tell me what you think<3

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

request: Sam and Deans sister is really squeamish with her own injuries. I am talking like gagging throwing up so grossed out, that’s how much it affects her. Her brothers are aware of her huge fear and understand what they have to do when she gets injured. They have been through this many times with her before and are extremely familiar with her panic. Even with all of her injuries, it never gets better for her and she freaks out every single time her brothers have to patch her up.

Warnings: gore, cursing,

A/N: Okay some of this might be so dramatic but it’s soooo real like I am one of these people who are absolutely sickened by stitches and gashes. I had to get stitches before multiple times and I was gagging the whole time gripping my leg. I would assume an injury like this one is 1000% worse so it may seem dramatic but it’s like so real tbh. Anyway I was too lazy and tired to proof read this but I’m still gonna upload it and check it all later so if anything’s clearly spelled wrong… oops sorry lol. Hope you enjoy:)) Requests are still open!

You were easily disgusted by the sight of your own wounds which was unfortunate because you were a hunter so wounds were more common than not. Blood was fine and little scrapes were okay, but stitches or deep gashes had you sick to your stomach. You could not stop yourself from physically gagging or throwing up when you had serious injuries. You were completely okay with others injuries, but your own? They made you sick to your stomach.

It was always a fight with your brothers because you obviously needed to take care of your wounds, but the idea of it made you physically ill. They had to hold you down more times than not to clean up your wounds and stitch them because you would thrash and thrash. If they weren’t holding you down, then you were usually squeezing your eyes shut, holding your breath and biting back throwing up. Either way, you never won because you were either crying, gagging, throwing up or fighting them. So when a demon took a knife and sliced your shin you couldn’t help but curse.

“Fuck!” You cried and collapsed to the floor. While Dean finished off the demon that sliced you, you grabbed your shin in a tight grip to look at your wound. You cried out in pain and felt sick to your stomach when you realized how bad it was.

“Oh my God. Oh my God.” You gagged, seeing your skin gaping open. Dean killed the demon and his attention immediately went to you. He eyed your injury up and before he could make his next move, Sam swooped in.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey you’re going to be alright, okay?” Sam said coming into your view. He looked at your wound and clenched his jaw. He caught Dean’s eyes. Dean sent him a grimace and shook his head. Sam already knew how this was going to end and he also knew that he had to word his next sentences to you very carefully.

“I’ll grab the car.” Dean hurried off, knowing that they had to disinfect and care for your wound as soon as possible.

“Okay, hey we’re going to get you cleaned up, it’s okay.” Sam said softly with his attention back on you. As he reached down to pick you up, you gripped onto his wrist with panic in your eyes.

“No, Sammy, wait, please no, please!” You whimpered, now feeling your body start to tremble. You were so not mentally prepared for this to be happening to you right now. Sam sighed, knowing how hard it was going to be for all of you.

“Bug,” he said sympathetically, “you know that’s a deep gash.” He finished insinuating that you knew that there was no other option, but to deal with the wound. You let out a sob and let him finish picking you up.

“I know sweetheart, I know, I’m sorry.” He whispered. Dean pulled up the car and hopped out. Sam carried you to the car while Dean opened the door for him and the three of you got in. You cried the entire way to the bunker while your brothers tried their best to comfort you. Once you got to the bunker, Dean went in first to get everything sorted as Sam worked on coaxing you out of the car.

“Sammy!” You sobbed when he opened the door closest to you.

“Y/N/N I’m sorry but we have to clean you up.” He said already knowing where you were going with it.

“No!” You cried gagging. “I’m going to throw up, I’m going to throw up!” You panicked.

“Hey hey hey it’s going to be okay!” He said reaching out to you, but you leaned away from him.

“No, no, no, no, no.” You mumbled. “Sam please I-I-I can’t fucking do it, I can’t!” You cried.

Sam sighed. “If we don’t clean it up now, it could get worse, bug. You would be in extra pain and it would require even more care.” Sam pointed out trying to get you to understand.

“But I don’t want either!” You cried.

“I know, but these are your only options.” He said sympathetically.

You threw your head back and cried. You were defeated, he was right.

“Fine,” you sobbed.

“Come on sweetheart, I got you.” He said softly as he helped you out of the car and picked you up. You squeezed your arms around his neck tight and dug your face into his chest as he carried you inside.

He walked you to the table where he tried setting you down gently, but failed. You still had your arms tight around his neck, not letting him go. You whimpered as you peaked out from his chest and saw all of the supplies out.

“Kiddo, we’ve gotta patch you up and you know that we do. So I need you to hang with me kid, okay?” Dean asked gently, coming into your view with disinfectant in his hands.

You cried, but released your grip on Sam. He sat you on the table and you instantly reached for your leg. You squeezed your leg tight hoping to take some of the pressure away from where you were injured as Dean got ready to clean you up.

“Alright I’m just going to disinfect it right now okay? I’m not touching it yet, just pouring it over your leg, alright kid?” He asked.

You nodded and whimpered, still squeezing your leg. You knew this part was going to hurt like hell. You closed your eyes and looked away and you felt Sam’s hand on your back. The cold liquid poured onto your leg and your breath got caught in your throat as you felt the intense sting and burn. You choked back a sob. You hated this feeling. You hated knowing that your wound was bubbling and that the liquid was going into your flesh because your skin was practically flapped open. The whole idea of it made you feel sick, but you knew this was the easiest part of the whole clean up.

“You’re doing so good kid, hang with me.” Dean said as he got the cloth gauze out. You felt your heart rate increase.

“Wait De-“ you started before he cut you off.

“I’m not going to do anything without telling you first and I’ll walk you through it as always.” He reassured you.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“I’ve gotta dry it up so I can start the stitches,” he said, squinting his eyes at you to get a better read on your expression. Sam felt you stiffen under his touch.

“Hey you’re doing so good bug, Deans going to continue.” He said, nodding to Dean and not giving you an option to stop him. Dean gave you a reassuring nod and blotted your wound. You hissed in pain as he finished drying it. As soon as you saw him reach for the needle and thread, you tried to scramble off the table. Your brothers knew you too well though and Sam had you pulled back.

You were frantic. “Please wait no wait” You gagged. “I-I-“ You gagged again. “No wait hold on!” You finally screeched in fear and pleaded your one last attempt. Tears were streaming down your face and you just couldn’t do it.

“You’re okay.” Dean reassured, nodding to you.

“But I’m not Dean!” You whined, feeling like you were going to pass out.

“Hey, hey, hey, the sooner I start, the sooner I can finish. I need you to stay with me kid. You’re okay.” He soothed, eyeing you. He knew that there was a great possibility of you passing out. Both of your brothers greatly preferred you to be conscious when they were patching you up to prevent further complications.

You accepted your fate and threw your head back crying. You motioned to Dean to start the stitches. As soon as he pierced through your skin with the needle you let out a sob.

“Shhhhh, shhh, it’s okay.” Sam murmured, rubbing your back and holding your body up. You felt Dean tug at your skin as he stitched you up and you gagged. This was one of the worst feelings in the world. You suddenly felt really weak and tried to blink away the black spots clouding your vision. Sam felt your body start to become less tense and figured you were slipping away from consciousness.

“Dean.” He alerted his brother. Dean looked up at you.

“HEY, HEY, keep your eyes open kiddo!” He shouted before lowering his voice. That confirmed Sam’s thoughts so he gave your face a little tap. You shot your eyes back open and focused on Dean’s mouth moving.

“HEY, HEY, I need you to stay awake, can you do that for me kid?” He asked. His voice felt so far away and you tried to nod, but you gave up and your head lolled to the side. You closed your eyes and felt Sam tapping your face again, but you didn’t have the energy to open them back up.

“Shit!” You heard Dean mumble before you fell into complete darkness.

You didn’t know how much time had passed before you felt a sharp stabbing pain in your leg. You jolted up frantically and Sam grabbed you to hold you down as you whimpered. Dean stopped stitching you so that your erratic movements didn’t cause him to screw up. You came to and focused on your surroundings.

“There she is! I need you to keep those eyes open for me kiddo.” Dean said looking at you.

“You’re okay, relax.” Sam soothed, but you didn’t care. As Dean turned his focus back to your gash, you cried out and tried to jerk your leg away.

“Sam, hold her down, I’ve gotta finish this up.” Dean said shooting you a sympathetic look. Sam gripped your shin tight and held you in place as you cried out in pain and disgust. Every time you felt the tug of your skin, you gagged. You squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath, clenching your jaw. You didn’t know how long had passed before you heard Sam’s gentle voice.

“Hey sweetheart, I need you to breathe for me or else your going to make yourself pass out again.” He said, still holding your leg in place. You didn’t even notice that your lungs were searching for oxygen until you let in a deep breath and felt the relief. Dean looked up at you.

“Atta girl, I’m almost done, hang in there.” He encouraged you. You cried out a few more times, before Dean put down the needle and thread.

“All done!” He said and you let out an audible sigh of relief. He out the antibacterial cream and unscrewed the cap.

“Okay I’m going to quickly put this on and wrap it up.” He explained to you. You nodded and he took that as his approval to continue. You accidentally caught sight of your wound and gagged.

“Blah oh my God I fucking can’t I’m- blah- I’m going to-“ You gagged. “I’m going to throw the fuck up.” You gagged again. It was just word vomit with you gagging every other second. You looked away, but the feeling of your skin and knowing what it looked like still continued to make you gag. Dean quickly spread the cream over your stitches and you gagged again. It just grossed you the hell out. The whole idea of it just made you sick to your stomach. He quickly wrapped up your leg and patted your knee.

“Good as new kiddo, you’re all patched up.” He sighed in relief.

“Thank you.” You whispered. You felt the ache and burn of your wound as you repositioned yourself on the table. You were ready to leap into your bed and stay there for eternity.

“Can you walk?” Sam asked, reaching out to help stabilize you as you got off the table.

“Yeah I-“ You gagged as you felt your skin ache from being stretched by the stitches. “I’m good.” You replied and walked without bending your leg to prevent yourself from feeling that gross stretch of your skin again. Sam looked at you in concern as Dean couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.

“Alright kid, let’s get you to bed.” He said as he swooped you up in his arms. You relaxed in his arms and he brought you into your room. He gently placed you on your bed and helped you with your blankets.

“Thanks De.” You mumbled before you noticed Sam also in the room, “thanks s’mmy.” You said softly. You were so exhausted and could barely keep your eyes open.

“Goodnight bug, call us if you need anything.” Sam said before he walked out of the room. Dean followed him, leaving your bedroom door open so they could check on you frequently through out the night.

[pianostarinwonderland]

Skully's Inspirations

sorry guys my brain's latched onto this event and now i can't stop writing my thoughts hhrhhrhjkhhrhkjrhkjthr

tbh im writing this to the tweets i've seen saying that skully isn't that similar to jack because at first i was like nodding along, like yea in the event, jack and skully have views that are clashing, which makes skully go mad. but then i watched nightmare before christmas AND IM CRYING Y'ALL. I KINDA SEE THE POINT OF SOME TWEETS, ESP WHEN THEY WERE ONLY WHEN EP2 WAS OUT. BUT EVEN THEN. I WOULD LIKE TO PLACE DOWN THE ARGUMENT THAT SKULLY IS TWISTED FROM JACK SKELLINGTON THE SIMILARITIES ARE T H E R E E EE EEEE

But here's the fun part about Skully. The past Halloween boys, Rollo and Fellow+Gidel, are written in such a way that most of their basis comes from their respective villains. Yes, they have some qualities of their heroes (i.e. Rollo is the one who diligently cares for the bell tower, which is Quasimodo's role), but the fact that they're twisted from one character is pretty clear.

Skully, however, is different. The way he's written is pretty similar to the NRC cast, in that he has a mix of different inspirations. While he's clearly twisted from Jack Skellington, he has a mix of the other characters, particularly our heroes and villains, and I'll discuss them in the post below.

On Jack Skellington: It's important to distinguish that for this part, I am referring to Skellington in the movie, not in the event story. And that's the Jack that Skully is very much twisted from.

For one, they are lonely and misunderstood. Jack's loneliness is different from Skully's in that he is well-loved for being the Pumpkin King. But that's the thing, it's because people love what he does that Jack can't confide in anybody that he's tired of it. And that isolates him, as we see in the way he sings alone (or so he thought) in the hill about his problems. Skully, meanwhile, seems to be alone in all senses of the word—his schoolmates don't understand him, and based on the fact that he's grown up spending Halloween alone, he may also be lonely in his hometown.

Skully's being misunderstood is pretty obvious: everyone doesn't understand or agree with his way of celebrating Halloween. But Jack too was misunderstood, particularly when he was sharing with the townspeople about Christmas. When he was trying to convey the joys of Christmas, people asked about how scary it was. And when Jack tried to dissuade the idea of fear, they didn't understand it, and some started to exclaim their disappointment. So Skully had to convey Christmas in the way that they all understood it, even if it wasn't what the holiday is actually about, which frustrated him. Hell, that exact scene mirrors the scene where Skully shared his proposal for Halloween, and the NRC students objected to it. Both characters were passionate about a particular holiday and wanted to share it with others, but were met with misunderstandings. Their methods at convincing the crowd are different, however. Jack appealed to their biases, while Skully disagreed with them.

Both of them persisted in celebrating a holiday to the point of taking over. Skully pushes to celebrate Halloween his way instead of the more festive manner that NRC presented to the point of putting Jack to sleep and is now in the process of taking over the celebrations. Jack Skellington meanwhile persisted in celebrating Christmas to the point of taking it over and kidnapping Santa Claus.

Skully and Jack tend to have an everything is fine attitude in front of others. They'll smile and go with what is happening, but then they'll sigh when they feel that they can. Skully is just more open about his real feelings than Jack is. And on a flipside, Skully has a bit more support from the NRC cast than Jack had in the movie.

On Sally: Funnily enough, Skully has some basis on Sally's character, particularly about stopping Jack from celebrating Christmas. Given that the NRC Halloween is very festive, it can be seen as the 'Christmas' in this story which Skully wants to stop Jack from doing. Aside from that, there's also a lot of notable things.

His putting Jack to sleep is also something that both movie and event Sally do to Dr. Finklestein to prevent him from interfering.

In some way, Skully also has Sally's stubbornness, though taken to a higher extreme. Sally is very firm on her beliefs and would argue with Dr. Finklestein, which causes tensions with the two of them, and she doesn't really leave room for compromise. Skully is also very firm about his ideals and beliefs, and as for now, he doesn't compromise. Both of them also act on their beliefs when they feel strongly about it.

It is well worth noting that Sally has stitches. Skully, whose outfit represents Jack's, has stitches where Jack does not. One could take it too as Skully having to stitch an outfit to resemble his idol. However, it may be a hint to Skully's development in the next two episodes. Sally stitches herself up in the movie when she is broken into parts. Skully may have an emotional representation of this.

a bit unrelated but at this moment in time, i realize that the OB phantoms have stitches on them, and idk what those implications are but twst im scared

I'll call it right now: I think Skully's backstory will be inspired by Sally's and Oogie's (to be discussed in the next part). Skully would have a parent or guardian that is like Dr. Finkelstein to Sally: someone who keeps him under control and would lock him in his room if he misbehaves. Possibly Skully would have a stubbornness that lets him figure out how to leave, if that is the case. A Finkelstein inspiration might actually work though

On Oogie: I give credit to Chrome for making arguments on their thread for Skully being twisted from Oogie. Much of the basis for Skully being twisted from Oogie is his stitches and his taking over Halloweentown in the side games! Furthermore, Skully is employing the help of Lock, Shock, and Barrel, who have mentioned 'the boss' in Episode 3. So there's a nonzero chance of Oogie showing up later on and possibly helping out Skully in some way. Even if he never shows up, though, Skully does play the role of Oogie in the event.

Like Sally, Oogie is also stitched up, except he's an entire bag full of bugs. In the movie, he is defeated by unraveling his stitches completely. The unraveling to reveal his backstory is probably going to be used for Skully's writing in the next parts (at least, I hope so).

In the side games, Oogie and Jack have a rivalry, and Oogie tries to take over Halloweentown in them. In one game, he also tries taking over the 7 Holidays as well, where he's almost successful, but Jack stops him. Skully's taking over the celebration of Halloween in Halloweentown is at least a little more aligned with Oogie since it's at least the same holiday.

Can't go through this part without bringing up their loneliness. Oogie is isolated from Halloween town and is even locked in the basement. It seems to be the inspiration for Skully celebrating Halloween alone and in a dark room.

Onto the Oogie side of Skully's backstory, I'm thinking that there may be someone in Skully's family or community whom everyone favored, akin to how Jack Skellngton was favored as the Pumpkin King when Oogie's own holiday didn't work out. Maybe they favored that other kid for his magic? Either way, this part is written in consideration of Leona and Jamil being the SSRs for this event, where both of them have suffered from having to deal with someone else being favored (Leona) and/or not being able to show off what you can do because of it (Jamil).

This is more brain worms on my part, but I wonder if Oogie's having torture weapons and bringing Sally and Santa very close to their deaths where they become his soup to eat is where Skully's reflection on death during Halloween comes from. Of course, this reflection is also something traditional, so it could be coincidence.

On Vincent Malloy (from Tim Burton's Vincent): So this is a very interesting suggestion for Skully's inspiration that came up when the event was still at Episode 2. I highly recommend checking out myonmyon's thread for this, and if you have the time, to watch Vincent (it's only 6 minutes long, so it's really not a long watch). It's important to note here too that in the DVD for Nightmare Before Christmas, Vincent was a part of that DVD.

Vincent Malloy has a strong admiration for the horror actor, Vincent Price, and it's so strong that he thinks that he himself is Price and not Malloy. His mother—and everyone else around him—doesn't understand this and urges him to play outside. The film is centered around his delusions of being Vincent Price, from dipping his aunt in wax to his beautiful wife being buried alive, and the lines between reality and fantasy end up blurring.

The way Vincent could not distinguish fantasy and reality is somehow similar to Skully, who struggles to accept that Jack Skellington isn't the idol he admired and isn't the guy who understands his ideas of Halloween.

This part may add to the theory that Skully established the first modern Halloween: Vincent Malloy is a character that let Burton represent himself on screen. Vincent the film is a benchmark in his career, as it was where he learned to combine 2D and 3D art styles, which he ends up using for Nightmare Before Christmas. And this led him to success, led him to share his vision to everyone in the world. Hence, Skully's story could be similar in that he gets to share his vision of Halloween one day, and possibly establish the first modern Halloween.

As a final note, Skully’s name is really interesting because it’s pretty clear it’s based on Skelli-ngton, but Skully and Sally both rhyme and end very similarly in their JP names (スカリー and サリー) (you can also say their EN names rhyme but Skully is still technically not official romanization). And crediting a friend for pointing this out, Skully (スカリー) also rhymes with Oogie (ウギ―ブギー), and we know how much Nightmare Before Christmas heavily uses rhymes.

[purerae]

teehee first ask thing :3c

i work at a movie theater and it sucks, literally the only thing that keeps me going is pretending someone going to see movies just to interact with me. tbh whenever i scan someone ticket and they’re cute, i’ll try to be at their theater whenever the movie end just to tell them “have a nice day!”

do what you'll want with this, i just wanna share my delusions ^^

hihi omg this is so cute, i wrote a little something about it !!

(i wrote this at like four am on a googles doc and didn’t proof read — pls forgive me for the kinda lame writing ;;;)

You’re tired. Extremely tired. If you got a coin for how many times somebody had asked you a stupid question — you’d be able to quit your job by now.

The smell of popcorn and off brand candy lingers in the air; you feel sick to your stomach as you look at the clock. 3 more hours of your shift left, god, you close your eyes for a solid minute — imagining yourself in your nice warm bed away from all the noise, smell and buzzing food machines.

Fortunately, it seems as the flurry amount of people had dispersed after the screenings of the new trending movie had stopped at a certain time. You hum a sigh under your breath, the theater was almost empty, You prayed to whatever was listening to you that a group of teenagers wouldn’t just burst in and charge towards your counter.

You decide to pass off some time by restocking the candy shelves by your desk, grimacing at the overpriced labels when you suddenly hear a small cough.

Looking up, you notice a very familiar customer beaming at you with a big smile. Their eyes light up, and you can't help but change your tired expression to one that matches theirs.

“Hey! How’s your shift going Y/N?” The man smiles, fidgeting with his hands as he eagerly looks at you.

“Good as a shift can get Matteo, how’s your day going? This is the third time you came this week — Must’ really like movies.. new world record huh?”

You respond back, with no malice in your tone, exchanging banter with your favourite customer. He comes so often to the theatre, that you guys are already on first name basis.

Honestly, the only reason he was your favourite customer was because of how how nice and pleasant he was to chat too.

Matteo would arrive with a warm smile, always making a beeline for whichever counter you were working at. You guys would chat about the latest releases, obscure indie films, and laugh over the messiness of children running around.

You’d remember the first time he came into the movies with his friends, his eyes would linger on you every now and again whilst ordering — you never really paid any mind to it.

Matteo raises his eyebrows as you question him. “…Really like movies?” A pause between the two of you as you nod awkwardly, before his eyes widen in realisation.

“Oh yeah— yeah! I love movies hahaha…! Movies are great.. awesome, spectacular, so fun!!” He says laughing, wiping his eyebrow and grinning extremely wide.

Rapidly changing the subject, Matteo places one of his arms on the counter. “The movie you recommended to me two days ago was so funny! I loved it, anything new for me today?”

To be frank, you could not recall what movie you told him to watch, and you doubt you even watched it yourself! However, seeing the gleam in his face — you didn’t have the heart to tell him so.

You shift your head slightly to see behind Matteos head, the small list of movies that were going to play soon. Selecting the most cool sounding one, you look back at him.

“There’s a movie called ‘Argan Gate’ that came out recently in theatre 3?”

His smile becomes even more radiant (which you didn’t know could be possible) as he looks through his bag, “Sounds perfect! I’ll take a ticket!”

Matteo hands you his money, your fingers brushed slightly, The man freezes as he just stares at your hands for a solid few seconds before zoning back in with flushed cheeks.

“…I’ll tell you how the movie was after, see you at your next shift?” He says with a flustered look. You mutter a small okay with a wave as he walks to the movie screening.

You wonder for a second on how he’d know when your next shift is, and why he watches every single thing you recommend him. Pausing as you stare at his back with a narrowed gaze before you shrug your shoulders, going back to restocking the shelves

‘He must just really really love movies.’

[crest-of-gautier]

how is it that i finished reload three months ago but it feels like a lifetime ago... ("some" thoughts about reload under the cut... spoilers obv)

reload is like a mixed bag for me. there's aspects of it that i hold near and dear to my heart (ryoji mochizuki my beloved), while some parts of reload... i'm kind of... "eh... whatever" about.

i think my feelings ultimately boils down to the fact that fes and reload are two very distinct experiences. the differences between them feels most obvious to me with the gameplay changes, and added social events (dorm activities + linked episodes).

because these two games curate a different experience, i feel awkward when i'm confronted with the question of, "what version should i play?" to me, the question kind of has the undertone of, "what is the definitive version of persona 3?"

even though reload is arguably the most convenient and accessible version of p3, i feel that when i recommend it... i internally have a bunch of asterisks that come with it. this hesitance mostly comes from my opinion that FES has more effective storytelling for the messages that P3 wants to convey.

FES's gameplay mechanics adds to minato's characterization in ways that reload doesn't. it's stuff like the tiredness system, and how it adds to the idea that death literally stole minato's chance to live life normally without complications. it's the way minato can adapt to any of the weapon types of the other party members. it's the way that the party orders/command system was designed specifically for FES and SEES really feels like co-workers for a good chunk. you don't really feel that in reload as much.

there's also some things about FES's visuals that feel better (to me). the palette of the dorms feels more somber and it enhances the atmosphere. and the half body portraits, oh, the characterization of it all that comes from body language (ryoji mochizuki you will always be famous to me). you don't quite get that when you only have a bustshot to work with.

i do realize that me expressing my grievances with missing these things from FES can be interpreted as "oh, so you don't like reload?" and i want to emphasize that this is not the case at all. i think that fes and reload are both valuable experiences, just for completely different reasons. (the same goes for portable as well, it very much has it's merits too!)

despite preferring FES' storytelling over reload's, i am hesitant to recommend it. even though the game mechanics can add to the story, they are also dated and i can see how this can turn people away. do i love how arduous the climb up tartarus feels in FES? yes. i really feel immersed in the minato-ism. but would someone else like it? no. and that's fine too.

this is where reload feels "better" than fes to me: updating it to modern gameplay standards makes it easier for players to enter a flow state. i do feel that the way they went about it did undermine some of the Vibes of the Climb™ (see my talk about the great clock on main).

theurgy is also another one of the mechanics that i'm a bit 🤔 about. i like looking at the characteristics that build the person's gauge (i especially LOVE LOVE how yukari's gauge builds), it's fun for characterization! and the visuals themselves are super appealing and fun to watch. junpei's 2nd theurgy, blaze of life, is one of my favorites because i really love how it represents his bond with chidori.

however i also feel that theurgy is... very overtuned. like, what do you mean i'm sweeping nyx avatar off her feet, i am facing death head on in the eyes and you're telling me she's a cakewalk? (this also applies to some of the other bosses.) of course you can just opt to... not use theurgy, but it feels weird for fights to be framed as "tough and unbeatable" within the narrative only to get through them with relative ease... (ludonarrative dissonance moment)

it feels really funny to write all of this out because i'm sitting here like, "you know, i don't think no one will care the way i do 😂" and that's fine, to be honest! i find it fun to think about how changes to a story can enhance or detract from the overall experience.

i do feel like i could elaborate on the story additions/removals and how some of it made me go "huh" and "whuh" but. i won't. because this post is long as is. but maybe another day. (but know that i am crying about the things they removed for aigis' storyline)

now that i'm done airing out my grievances with the gameplay, i want to talk about the things i liked about reload. even though some things had me go 🤨, i did sincerely have a fun time playing it, and i want to celebrate those things!

for one thing, the social links being voiced really added to the experience. i really, really felt myself immersed in the storylines of minato's classmates social links in ways that i didn't when i played FES. i just really loved seeing how charaters like yuko and keisuke would speak... and everyone's casting felt on point, to me!

reload is also very visually stunning. guy who doesn't play the game because they're too busy getting lost in minato's eyes. it's me. i'm guy. i really loved the animated cutscenes. it's fun seeing minato in a new coat of paint. he's so near and dear to me and seeing him in HD got me crying in the club. some things fell short (why does nyx avatar's face feel so low res...) but LIKE overall i was like, a yippee trail seeing minato interact with port island. i love seeing him walk around.

the story addition i liked the most (oh my god this is going to be such a surprise) (it's not). the ryoji episodes were everything i imagined ryoji to be. you can tell that sogabe worked on reload. i love how aleks le brought him to life. the music box drives me crazy. i love how special ryoji and minato's bond is and seeing them be like, explicitly, textually written the way they were? earth shattering, for me. they made new year's eve even more (oh no i've been flushed down the feelings lane). how the fuck did they do that!!!

i also still really love most of the ENG VA cast and what they brought to the table. allegra clark's performance as mitsuru was especially standout to me... so was zeno robinson as junpei... but GOD!!! SEES felt so lived in. i love the passion the new VAs had for the game and it felt evident to me in their performance.

and that's my reload thoughts :) i think it's nice that reload exists even if some things about it disappointed me. i do wish i didn't have a bunch of caveats when talking about it, but like... i find it very fun to dissect my feelings on it??? given that reload had some things that didn't land for me, it makes it all the more important to me to thank reload for what (i felt) it did well, and celebrate those parts of it. p3 is very near and dear to my heart and i will always cherish the bits that felt resonant with me.

speaking of which, i do think it's nice that reload has been an entry way for people to get into persona... even though i haven't been engaging with the community as much as i used to, i do like that there's been more fanwork to look at... even if not all of it is my cup of tea...! it makes me happy that there's a resurgence of ryomina, but also the entire cast is... so shapely. i cherish them dearly and seeing that others also like them as much as i do makes me really, really happy!

i hope p3 can continue to make others happy the way it made me happy! the message will stick with me for a lifetime, methinks.

oh that's a lot of gigabytes.

[diejager]

First of all HEYYY I love ur work smmmm I read almost every. single. day. So I have anemia (iron deficiency) and I'm always super cold and pale. Like my body barely produces any heat. Sometimes I don't even realise how cold I actually am like I just look in the mirror and realise my lips are blue and I look like a zombie. So I was wondering if u could do like a Ghost x cold reader like with the blue lips and nails and everything ykkkk?? And to be sum like they end up having to stay in a safe house together cause they're snowed in and the radios don't work or wtvvvvv and the heats brokennnn OMGGG and there's only one bed😭😭😭😭🤌🤌 I would love that sm tbh and again LUV UR WORK

Cw: fluff, humour?, anemia, snowed in, mention of hypothermia, cold, one bed trope, tell me if I missed any.

You hated the cold as much as you hated snow despite how lovely you remembered it was, to feel the soft and cool flakes fall on your face and staring off into the landscape. You couldn’t help feeling some sort of aversion towards the cold when your condition made you nearly vacant of any heat, extremities turning blue or purple if you didn’t regulate your own tempature. But the thing you hated the most, was being stuck and snowed in a safe house without any communication from Laswell and a broken heater. 

At the very least, you had company, sent off to Siberia with Ghost by your side, a man that burned higher than anyone you’d ever met. Perhaps he was the best option out of everyone, someone you got along with and enjoyed his jokes. That left you shivering under many layers of warm blankets, a bundle on the single bed that the safe house had. Oddly enough, it had enough food to feed a team of ten powerful and hungry men for an extended amount of time, space for many to roam around, but it had one single bed in the whole facility. 

Not that it minded you, you were as close to him as you were with the other men, a gentle friendship that often led to idiotic decisions and humourless jokes (more so on his side than yours). You watched him move around the room, securing the windows before he did the same to the rest of the house, checking the locks and insuring that both of you would be safe for the night; and when he was sure everything was secure enough, he climbed into bed, slipping under your pile of blankets. Ghost held you against his chest, an arm under his head and the other around your waist, keeping you close to him to share his heat with you, to relieve you of your shaking and shuddering, and breath coming out in frozen vapour.

“Tell me a joke, Ghost,” you quipped, wanting to take your mind off the numbing cold and your low iron count.

“What does a doctor ask a snowman?” He started after a few seconds of thinking, a lightness in his tone.

“What?” You raised your brows, burying your face into your blanket burrito and squirming until he got tired of it and tightened his hold on you.

“And you say you’ve been erect for 4 hours?” He ended with a low chuckle, laughing at his own joke. He was shamelessly proud of it, apparently.

You blinked owlishly, lips pursed as you mumbled lowly, huffing through your nose with a quick sigh, worming around to stare at Ghost. Even with the mask on, you could see the softened expression through his eyes, his darkened eyes gleaming with mirth and innocent joy.

“That was bad,” you pouted, narrowing your eyes a him.

“Oh? But you laughed,” he grumbled.

“Because it was bad.”

“Yeah, now shut up and sleep.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[fcthots]

Choose which has to go: Flufftober, whumptober, kinktober

Also: staying late at work makes me wish that I could jump on Jay and use him as a big cuddly pillow while ignoring all the other shit I have to do when I (finally) get home after my long ass commute💖💖💖🙄💖

tbh I would kick flufftober. I am the angst queen and also I love smut.

mood

You walk in the door with a sigh, your shoulders hunched. Jason looks over from his place in the kitchen.

You announce your entrance. "'M home." You learned very early on not to enter a vigilante's home without some sort of heads up, even if you live there.

"Hey. You look tired."

"Fuck you. I look hot."

"Can't deny that. You always look hot, but you also look really tired right now. You ok?"

"Could a tired person do this?" You kick your legs up and do a little jump.

Jason breaks down in laughter. "What the fuck was that?"

You keep your gaze fixed to the floor, deep in thought. "To be honest, I don’t know."

His laughter dissolves into giggles as he walks towards you. He puts a hand around your waist and begins leading you towards the couch. "Ok, c'mon. It’s nap time." You try to interrupt him, to tell him you don’t need sleep, but he stops you. "Shh. Don't you wanna cuddle with me? I'll be offended if you say no."

He has you wrapped around his stupidly attractive fingers, but that doesn’t mean you aren't salty about it. You grumble all the way to the couch, but the moment your head hits the pillow (his chest), you're out cold in a matter of minutes.

He watches you sleep, running his fingers through your hair reverently. He'd do anything for you.