#the first guy got decapitated

[milfbro]

now I have to remember where I dropped off Master and Magarita so I can pick it back up asdfghjkl

I had to read Edward Said. You guys understand. But now I have to get back to it

[neonhellscape]

hated sons of brutal families

[metal-requiem]

do you think they had to explicitly mention a loop in Ride the Cyclone to avoid getting sued by luna park

[frostytherobot]

can somebody tell me why every time i have a dream about mike something really fucking bad happens in the dream also

[wannabespacesmuggler]

L.H. | Scotty Doesn't Know

Masterlist | Buy me a coffee

Summary: Scott Summers made two things clear for Logan when he first arrived at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters: stay away from his girlfriend and don’t even look at his little sister. The former was easy.  The latter, though? That one’s a little harder for Logan.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Summers!Reader

Warnings: canon typical violence

Word Count: 2.2K

Author’s Note: So, your boy has seen Deadpool and Wolverine too many times and is currently experiencing Hugh Jackman brain rot. Had to write something after listening to "Scotty Doesn't Know" by Lustra and then it just kinda just took on a life of it's own. Let me know if you guys want more Logan fics because I'm so obsessed with this man rn.

“Just doing maintenance, or are you going for a ride?”

Logan looks up from where he was working on his bike. He damn near almost bites through the cigar in his mouth when he spots you leaning against the garage door. He shouldn’t be surprised; despite his best efforts, Logan always seems to be accompanied by your presence -- both at the mansion and in the field. It’s not that he wants to ignore your existence. Scott Summers made two things clear for Logan when he first arrived at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters: stay away from his girlfriend and don’t even look at his little sister. Logan wanted to scoff at Scott’s warning: opposed to public belief, he’s not actually an animal. 

The former was easy -- Jean made it abundantly clear that she’s in love with Scott. The latter, though? That one’s a little harder for Logan -- especially when you’ve made it abundantly clear that you’re just as fascinated with him as he is with you. 

“Just working.”

You nod at his answer as he returns his attention to his bike, putting out his cigar in the process. His bluntness is unsurprising, but no matter how often Logan tries to blow you off, you still feel the harsh sting of disappointment. Logan Howlett is an enigma to you. A problem you just can’t seem to find the solution to. You’ve always gotten along with Logan and work well enough together that Charles often pairs the two of you up on missions. He protects you with his life in the field. He’s the first to offer you a helping hand when he notices you struggling. He consistently provides support after every mission that goes awry. It would be easy to consider him a friend; however, Logan has always kept you at a distance. He brushes you off whenever you ask if he wants to do something simple like share a drink or watch a movie. 

At first, you thought it was because he was afraid of you -- of your mutation. Just like your older brothers, you have the ability to manipulate energy. And just like your older brothers, you have difficulty controlling your powers without the help of external factors -- Alex had the suit, Scott has his glasses, and you have two siphons that you wear on either wrist. Without them, energy builds up in your body until it cannot be contained and then escapes through the only place it knows how -- your hands. The siphons help regulate the amount of energy coursing through your body, and most importantly, they give you the power to choose when and how to disperse it. 

During one of your missions, one of your siphons was destroyed. You and Logan were fighting for your lives against an anti-mutant militia after being separated from the rest of the X-men. The two of you were outnumbered and on your own since communication with the team had been cut off. Logan was willing to fight to the death against these soldiers, and you were prepared to back him up until the end. During the fight, Logan got pinned down by multiple assailants, and you watched helplessly as they attempted to decapitate your partner. You felt the familiar sensation of energy building throughout your body as you struggled against your own group of attackers. All hope seemed lost until one of the soldiers nailed you in the back of the head -- hard. The hit caused you to fall forward, and you braced yourself, using your hands to catch your falling body. As your hands connected with the ground, an energy field shot out of your hands. You prepared yourself for another blow, but it never comes. The chaos around you suddenly seemed to turn into an eerie silence. Finally, you look up and let out a shaky breath as you take in the carnage caused by your energy field. Everything around you was completely eviscerated -- everything except Logan.

Logan let out a low, pained groan, and you watched in horror as his body heals himself from the wounds you inflicted. You looked down at your hands in shock. It’s been ages since your powers were this volatile. Since you felt this out of control. At this moment, you noticed the state of your left siphon -- wholly shattered. No wonder you weren’t able to control your powers. 

The sound of your name eventually pulled your attention away from your hands. Looking up, you saw Logan cautiously approaching you. His concerned eyes scan your body for any injuries and once he seemed certain that you’re okay, he met your gaze.

“We need to get out of here.”

It wasn’t until the you were back on the jet with the rest of the team, that Logan approached you about what happened in the field. You were sitting away from the others at the back of the jet, studying your broken siphon. Suddenly, a pair of large hands cover yours, obscuring your siphon entirely. You look up and see Logan knelt in front of you. 

“You good?”

He didn’t move his hands from yours as he spoke and you relished in the contact. A dry laugh escaped your lips as you considered his question.

“I couldn’t control myself out there, Logan. Without my siphons, I’m just as dangerous as the enemy out there.”

Logan’s face softened at your words. He understands why you’re so panic-stricken right now -- knowing all too well how it feels to lose control.

“Hey. Look at me, sweetheart. I’m fine.”

You scoffed at his words. Of course he’s fine. He’s damn near indestructible, but you saw the aftermath of your outburst. Saw the devastation caused by your hands. Those same hands that Logan is now tightening his grip around -- grounding you back in reality.

“Seriously. You might think you were a liability out there, but you saved my life.”

You met his eyes again and are taken aback by the sincerity you found in them. 

“I could have killed you.” 

And there it is -- what’s actually eating you up inside. He’s aware of the fact that your powers could have killed any of your teammates -- including himself. But they didn’t. He’s here with you, unafraid, because even though you think your powers are something that should be feared, he just finds them remarkable.

“I know. Trust me, I know. But you didn’t.”

You nodded at his words, feeling a little more at ease. Your heart dropped as he removed his hands from yours, but instead of walking away, Logan took a seat next to you. He didn’t say another word, but he didn’t have to. His presence alone was enough to settle you down.

After that day, you thought maybe something changed between you and Logan. Although there was a newfound understanding and sureness with one another -- he still kept you at arm’s length. In all honesty, the whole situation confuses the shit out of you.

“Did I do something that upset you?”

Logan’s brow furrows at your question, and his eyes finally find yours again. He doesn’t drop the tool in his hand, but he’s shifted his body to face yours now.

“What?”

“Did I do something that upset you?”

Logan shakes his head as you repeat your question, looking at you incredulously. He doesn’t understand where this outburst is coming from.

“What are you talking about?”

Your brow furrows at the genuineness of his confusion. How could this man not know what you’re talking about?

“Do you like working with me?”

Logan blinks at your words. Now he’s completely lost. He sets down the tool in his hand and stands up, crossing both of his arms over his chest. 

“What’s this all about, sweetheart?”

You let out a frustrated sigh and run your hands through your hair. If only this man knew how infuriated he makes you. So, he won’t drink a beer with you at the end of the day, but he’ll throw around the name ‘sweetheart’ like it’s nothing? The man is simultaneously your favorite and least favorite person.

“I’m just trying to figure out what I did that pissed you off.”

Logan scoffs at the idea as if you’re the one being ridiculous here. And, to Logan, you are being ridiculous. The only thing that’s ever pissed him about you is completely out of your control -- if only you weren’t Scott’s little sister.

“I’m not pissed at you.”

You genuinely want to pull your own hair out right now.

“Are we friends?”

Friends. The word hurts Logan more than it should. Actually, it shouldn’t hurt at all. That’s what you both are, right? Just friends and partners in the field. Except you’ve never been just a friend or just a partner to Logan. Not really. But he can’t do anything about that. 

“Yeah, I guess.”

He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, but his posture is still defensive. 

“Then why won’t you just drink a beer with me?”

Oh. Oh.

Logan supposes that his behavior is odd. Friends are expected to spend time together and well, the only time he spends with you is during training sessions or missions. Your whole relationship is grounded in the two of you working together, but somehow, it’s turned into something more intimate. The tender moments between missions and the tension during intense training sessions -- although Logan had attempted to make clear boundaries with you, the lines blurred at some point, and now Logan is left with the consequences.

“It’s complicated.”

He’s not wrong. He knows himself. His feelings for you were already complicated enough. If he were to close the distance he made between the two of you? Well, he may not actually be an animal, but he’s not sure if he could control himself. 

“Oh, is it?”

You’re frustrated. And you’re no longer leaning against the garage door. No, you’re standing just a few feet away from him now -- hands on your hips defiantly. Logan rolls his shoulders back, trying to stop himself from lashing out against you. You try to ignore how his muscles flex against the thin white tank top he’s wearing due to the movement. 

“Yeah, it is. I promised Scott…”

“This is seriously about my brother?”

“Well, yeah.”

You let out a dry laugh. This whole situation is absurd, but you should have known. Without Alex around, Scott feels the need to be the overprotective older brother. He’s warned you about Logan countless times since he first arrived at the mansion, but you never really listened to him. It always seemed ridiculous to you -- especially since the dangerous man he constantly warned you about was the same man he trusted to protect you during every mission. Of course, Scott also cautioned Logan to stay away from you.

“He may be my brother, but he doesn’t get to make my decisions for me, Logan.”

You take a step towards Logan and he watches you with an intensity that would make you uncomfortable if it were any other man. But this isn’t any other man. 

“And he doesn’t get to choose who I spend my time with.”

And in this moment, Logan knows that he’s fucked. You’re fiesty, and headstrong, and determined -- all attributes that he admires in you. If you’ve decided that he’s the person you want to spend your time with, then who is he to argue? 

“So what do you say -- wanna go for a ride?”

A wild grin spread across his face at your question. Little do you know that he’s thought about this exact moment more than he’ll ever care to admit. Throwing all caution to the wind, he grabs his leather jacket and climbs on his bike. You watch him with bated breath as you wait for his response. Instead of giving you an answer, Logan kicks the starter, causing the motorcycle to roar to life. A part of you is afraid that you misconstrued your relationship and that this is all going to end with Logan riding off on his own. But then Logan looks back at you, eyebrow raised playfully.

“You coming, sweetheart?” 

Without a second thought, you climb on the back of his bike. Logan revs the engine once before glancing back at you again. 

“You might want to hang on.”

You don’t need to be told twice. Your hands slide under his leather jacket and wrap around his waist. Logan tries to fight off the shiver that begs to travel down his spine as he feels the warmth of your hands against his abdomen through the thin cotton fabric. He wonders if you know what you do to him -- how hard it is for him to pull away when he’s in your presence. It’s like you're a magnet made just for him.

“When your brother finds out…”

The laugh that escapes your lips is like music to his ears. And as you press your body closer to his, he decides that even if he’s going to hell for this, at least he gets to experience the heaven of this moment right here.

“What Scotty doesn’t know, won’t kill him.”

Logan shakes his head before peeling out of the garage. God, the Summers family is going to be the death of him.

[lady-djarin]

on my radar

joel miller x f!reader (one shot)

warnings/tags: edited very little so sorry! dual pov, jackson era dark!joel, SMUT (oral fem receiving, p in v), stalker behavior from mr miller, age gap (50s/20s), joel is kind of a creep but reader is kinda into it, murder off screen, cannon typical violence, men harassing women (a guy is gross with reader/unwanted touching etc) NO R*PE, possessive talk and nicknames (mine, love, my girl, good girl etc), reader can be lifted by mr big man joel but otherwise no really specific details about readers body other than the usual fem. 18+ minors be gone!,

word count: 5.8k

* ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

YOU

You almost dropped it twice, your gloved fingers slipped around the smooth metal of the gun as you fumbled to pull the trigger. The clicker was quickly stumbling toward you even on its one and a half limbs. You and your patrol partner got separated when a small swarm of the dead caught you both off guard in a densely wooded area . As you were trapped in a corner of a hunting shed by the crawling thing, you felt your heart rate begin to rise and the feeling of dread set in that this might be your last moment.

You saw the blood hit your gloves before you even heard the blade hack into its head. Then the body hit the floor.

You looked up to find your patrol partner standing there with a machete clutched in his hand. He was looming over you with a look very close to anger creasing his brows and his chest heaving in exhaustion. He grabbed the gun out of your hand and grabbed your arm to pull you away from the writhing body. He hacked the large blade into the neck to fully decapitate the head then stabbed into the ear to finally kill it.

“Do you even know how to use this thing?” His voice had an edge to it, like he was mad, or scared as he held up the gun in your face.

You looked at him with tears brimming your lash line, the cold was seeming to freeze them before they tried to fall down your cheek. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Have you ever been on patrol?” His eyes narrowed as they scanned your face, then your body.

“No.” Your mouth was so dry.

“Who sent you on patrol!? What the hell…,” he grumbled as he turned away. “I asked you a question.” He shot another nasty glare your way when you didn’t answer.

His statement kind of shocked you, not a lot of people are blunt like that.

“Uhm, I asked Tommy, I wanted to help.”

“Fucking Tommy, sticking me with a kid.”

“Hey I might be new to this but I'm not a kid,” you chased after him and that didn't help your defense.

“Jesus…,” he was grumbling again and marching away, toward where you hid the horses. The two of you set out on patrol a couple hours before, your first time outside the gates in Jackson. You had heard rumors about Joel, people said he was ‘rough around the edges but good people’. You had seen him around the community and wondered if he was someone you could get along with. He seemed like he was an outsider, kind of like you. When you learned you were partnered with him you figured it was going to be difficult, but this was a little much.

You were on your way through the state trying to get to where your dad lived in Sundance when you ran into some trouble near their camp and they took you in until you recovered. They stitched you up after they found a nasty gash on your ribs when you were discovered fighting off a pack of stalkers. After arriving at the Jackson community, you learned that Sundance was completely overrun. The sparse community there hunkered down in their homes after the outbreak but with the large swarms that came through the area, pretty much everyone fled and went their own ways. You could barely stand the thought that your dad was caught in the middle but he was strong, he could find his way out.

He had to.

So you remained in Jackson, becoming a part of the community, and everyone in the community had to help out somehow. You felt indebted to Tommy and the community for helping you and making you feel at home here after your recovery. That's why you wanted to go on patrol, you felt like you could help. Joel clearly didn't agree.

That last fucking thing he wanted to do was teach some rookie how to handle themselves on patrol. He was pissed and you could see it in the tense bunching of his shoulders as he rode on in front of you. You felt kind of bad for having Joel take care of you back there but he didn't have to be such an ass about it.

“Hey,” you rode up next to him. “Look I know I'm not who you wanted to be on patrol with but just give me a chance ok? I'm just trying to do a job here.”

He barely looked your way, he just kind of grunted before urging his horse over the final path into Jackson.

Alright then.

You didn't see those broad hunching shoulders for a couple days after, though he clearly had been talking about you. Tommy took you off patrol so Joel obviously made his concerns clear to his brother. When you did see him it was from across a room or passing in the street, but even in brief passes it felt like a tension was always present. His brows would bunch in the middle as he scanned you. It always felt like a judgment maybe, or some kind of disgust the way he would observe you. You quite honestly thought he hated you.

JOEL

You looked cute when you were mad, actually to Joel you always looked cute. Your cheeks were pink with the morning cold, your breath steamed in the air as you huffed through your nose. You were mad because he was ignoring you, and he was ignoring you because he was scared shitless when he came into that hunting hide and found you cornered by one of the dead. It scared the living shit out of him to think about how you were almost torn apart.

He doesn't remember the exact day that he started to care a little too much about you, it was a slow thing. It took over his life, watching you as you became integrated into the fabric of the town. The people of Jackson welcomed you and you welcomed them right back. People loved you and you got along with pretty much everyone. He started to notice you when he saw you and Ellie chatting about something girl related in the mess hall. He noticed how you seemed to genuinely invested in your conversation with Ellie, hanging on to her every word. Next thing he knows he's thinking about you every waking hour, and you haunt most of his dreams. It feels like you are a presence in his chest that he can't carve out and he has tried.

Joel had tried to occupy himself by relieving the tension himself, trying to dissolve the desire he had for you. It didn't work, of course, but he couldn't help himself.

He refused to actually make any kind of relationship with you, he felt like it would look inappropriate. He was a grumpy gray haired man and you were young and bright, he felt like he would be too rough for you anyway. He was a broken man, his hands were dirty with death and guilt and blood. He could see the innocence in your eyes, the way you smiled with your whole heart when talking to people, especially someone he cares for.

Maybe those were the moments he truly started to have real feelings for you, seeing the way you cared for Ellie. Everytime he would see you it made his heart skip a beat, it almost confused him at first, like his heart was waking up from a decades long nap. His chest hurt with how intensely he was starting to ache without you near, it only ever stopped when he saw you or felt you close or smelled your shampoo as you walked by. It was the same as everyone else as there was a lady in Jackson who made everyone soap but still when it lingered after you it smelled like heaven to Joel.

All that to say, Joel still felt like it was wrong to pursue you. You were and always will be the one that got away.

He needed to stay away.

YOU

It had been a couple weeks or so, maybe longer since you saw those grumpy brown eyes. You had started to miss him, as painful as it was to admit. Even though he was barely a colleague, definitely not a friend, you were missing the way… he was mean to you? No, that can’t be right. Why would you miss a man that is anything but nice around you?

Tommy had found you another job working at the local watering hole/dining hall, as the patrol thing clearly wasn’t going to work. He was walking you around the hall, introducing you to the people you would be working with when you heard a familiar voice.

“Hey Tommy, you here?”

“Yea Joel, in here.”

Shit.

“Oh hey Joel…” You wanted to keel over and die.

”H-hey.” He seemed… odd.

They chatted about something security related and you were introduced to the hall supervisor. As you talked on one end of the room, Joel and Tommy were on the other and it felt like neither of you could look away from the other. Your eyes kept finding each other, each time it felt longer and longer, like the world was falling away. It felt much different than the last time you spoke, like he might not actually hate you. It was an odd feeling, having his eyes on you, he was almost predatory.

Even as he looked over what felt like every couple seconds, he still had this pinched, angry look on his face.

But it was hard to look away. Joel was mesmerizing but you knew deep down he could never be interested the way you would want him to be. He was a grumpy older man that wanted nothing to do with the new young girl in town.

You didn’t see him for a while after that.

JOEL

Joel Miller was by no means a good man. A good man wouldn’t be watching you like this, following an unsuspecting woman around town. A good man wouldn’t watch you as you walked around the Jackson streets, minding your business, talking to your new found friends.

Ever since seeing you again at the dining hall he couldn’t rid his mind of you, as hard as he tried. He knew he would ruin you if you let him, if he even got one taste he would be addicted. Not like he wasn’t now, leering at you talking to patrons at your job. He felt dirty in a way, like he wasn’t allowed to look, not allowed to have the urge to bash in the head of any man who looks at you wrong. Like the guy you were helping now, Mike, every time you turned away to get him what he asked for, he could see his slimy gaze caressing your curves.

He felt like he was going crazy, not being able to be near you like he truly wants. He wasn’t sleeping well, barely eating enough to keep him upright and almost missed patrol on more than one occasion. His mind was playing tricks on him, he would find you in dreams, wake up to find you cooking breakfast in his kitchen or walking hand in hand down the streets of Jackson. The cruel reality that he would never have that always hit him hard in the morning when the sunlight came streaming over his bedspread.

He often found himself turning over, searching for you.

Sometimes they were nightmares, visions of you being attacked by the dead or one of Jackson’s very own.

That’s why he was here, making sure you were safe from the dangers of this world. It was his job.

He was there until you got off work, gathering your belongings and heading out the door when Mike popped around the corner. Joel was immediately on high alert, watching the man’s every move as he advanced on an unsuspecting you. He stalked after the two of you, staying just out of sight. His blood boiled when he saw Mike call after you.

She’s mine, he thought.

He stayed across the street, just in case things went sideways. In case he put his hands on what didn’t belong to him.

“Hey! Saw ya leaving work, how was your night?” Ok, nice enough but Joel knew he was clearly waiting for you to leave work.

“It was ok, just tired and ready to go home.” You were being polite but clearly trying to convey that you were going home, alone. That’s my girl.

“I’d like to talk to ya though, ya know i’ve seen ya ‘round and think you’re real cute. Come on, please? One chance?” He’s persistent, that's for sure. Walking the line there, Mike.

“That’s sweet but I’m not really looking for anyone right now, I just got here a few months ago…” You kept walking and you kept your eye contact away from him, smart girl.

“If you give me a chance I’ll show ya I’m worth it. I promise baby.” You were not his baby.

“I’m not your baby, Mike. Please, I just want to go home.” You turned towards him now with determination in your tired eyes.

Mike clearly wasn’t hearing you, or just not caring because as you tried to turn away he grabbed your arm and pinned your back against a wall.

He’s dead.

YOU

I’m dead. This stupid asshole is going to kill me. Your mind was racing as you looked for ways out. Mike’s front was almost completely pushed against yours now as he trapped you against the brick wall. You could now smell the alcohol on his breath now that he was on top of you. You tried to break free, maybe he was drunk enough where you could shake him off. You could tell that wasn’t the case when he groaned in delight.

“Mhmm, keep doing that baby. I like feeling ya move that pretty body.” You wanted to puke, his greasy beard and sour breath was assaulting your space. You froze your body in an attempt to get him off you but he leaned in, trying to capture your lips. You whipped your head to the side and squeezed your eyes shut trying to block out whatever he might do next. Only, when you expected his lips or something on you, there was nothing. His entire weight was gone and you almost slumped to the floor in relief. When you opened your eyes, there was nothing, no one in sight, not even a sound. Mike was nowhere to be seen, nor was anyone else. If you weren’t so relieved that the creep was gone, you’d be freaked out. It felt like one of those eerie horror movies you watched before the word turned into one itself.

You weren’t really sure what else to do other than go home. You walked the quiet streets towards your small house and barricaded your door that night, just to be safe.

…..

“Have you heard?! I can’t believe it!” Angela’s voice shook you out of your tired daze. No matter how you tried to occupy your mind or sleep last night you couldn’t shake what Mike did to you. “It was Mike! That’s who it was that was found behind the dinner hall.”

Mike? Did you hear her right?

“Wait, Mike, like creepy Mike?”

“Yes!” Angela never learned how to not raise her voice.

Mike was dead. He was dead behind where you worked after he assaulted you. That seemed… convenient. Did that make you a bad person?

“They are calling everyone to the town hall for an announcement.” This was the only time they have done this in the short time you’ve been here.

Everyone walked over and filled the hall wall to wall. Tommy, Maria and a few other members in charge of running Jackson stood on the stage of the building that looked to once be a school auditorium, including Joel. Your eyes caught him up there as soon as you walked in, recognizing his brown curls anywhere. Tommy walked up to the top of the stage and everyone immediately quieted down, they clearly respected him.

“Hey ya’ll… Uh, unfortunately it's not good news that calls us together today.” He was clearly nervous. “One of our own is gone, Mike Walton. Now I know in this world losing someone happens more often than we would expect but this one is different. It happened in our walls and we think, committed by one of our own.”

Murder. He was killed. Fuck.

The crowd was starting to murmur and quietly panic. You felt responsible somehow, like you being the last one to see him, you think, meant… something. You had to tell them what happened last night, if only to make sure they know now instead of finding out some other way. So they know you're not hiding anything.

You stayed after the crowd cleared, listened to Tommy assure everyone that they are safe and he is putting security measures in place. You went up to the stage and caught Maria’s attention, you felt comfortable with her and maybe she would be more understanding. She really helped you assimilate when you recovered and felt kind of like a sister in a way.

“Hey sweetie, how ya doing?”

“I need… I need to tell you something.”

She took you to a more private area and you told her what happened the night before. She listened dutifully as you recounted your story and it really made it strangely better to talk about it. It was by no means easy to forget but knowing someone was listening helped. After you finished and she gave you a reassuring hug, she brought you back to Tommy… and Joel.

“Ok hon, I will need to tell Tommy about this, I’ll only include the necessary things.” You nodded knowing you could trust both of them with the news. “Joel, would you be able to walk her home? I don’t want to take any chances here.” Maria did say to you privately that she was going to treat this as if you were in danger in some way, in case this turned out to be about you.

He only nodded in your direction, extending his arm, signaling you to lead the way. You walked the streets, the silent tall man trailing behind you. You stopped so abruptly that Joel backed up in surprise.

“I don’t need you walking behind me like a bodyguard.”

“Where should I walk?” His voice dripped with something dark.

“W-well…I don’t know, next to me like a normal person?”

All he does is silently walk up to you and nod forward urging you on. You kept walking, feeling Joel’s arm brush up against yours and the tension was building before either of you said anything. You arrived at your building in silence and he walked you up the steps, more than you were expecting from the distant man. You paused as you opened the door and realized something, if Maria is right and someone is after you, they could be in your house.

“Y’ok?” His voice was low and rough.

“Uh… actually, no. Joel, would you be able to come in… and uh, check it out? Just to make sure, I don’t know…someone’s not— not in there?”

You swore his eyes softened at your nervous request, maybe he felt bad. He followed you inside and had you wait by the door as he surveyed the rest of the house. He came back within only a few minutes and you were relieved it was quiet in the house.

“You’re all good here darlin’,” he stood by the kitchen counter almost like he was avoiding leaving.

But you didn’t want him to leave.

JOEL

He knew no one would be in your house, there was no one after you. Except him. He saw Mike put his hands and other parts on you and something flipped in his brain. He went feral and had been looking for an opportunity to take this guy out. He was a menace to the community but Tommy said there was no legitimate reason. Usually he wanted a blatant offense to take action or even exile someone. Mike was sneaky, that was the problem, he was good at hiding his deplorable behavior towards women behind being friendly with most of the male Jackson population.

Joel was so sick of it, and he likes to pretend that’s why he was there that night, not that he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. For weeks now he had been everywhere you were, coincidence of course. He needed to make sure that you were safe, that someone would be there for you. Even if he couldn’t have you, he needed to watch over you. You had completely consumed his life, every waking and sleeping hour he had his mind on you.

The worst of it he thinks was a few weeks into his obsession, he found himself across the street from your house, crouched in the bushes like a maniac. He watched your silhouette as you turned about the room, picking things up, gathering our belongings and just generally going about your home life. It was so magical to him to see you living your life unencumbered by the burden of how cruel people can be. He had to make sure no one took that from you.

He was pulled from his thoughts by your sweet voice. “Joel? You ok?”

“Y-ya sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you wanted a drink.”

“Oh, uh- sure sweetheart.”

He watched you go over to a cabinet and pull out a dwindling bottle of something dark that made his mouth water. You had good taste.

That's my girl.

You slid over the glass with a small amount of whiskey and you each sipped it slowly.

“Thanks for walking me home, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem darlin’, but I'm sure you’re safe. No one’s gonna hurt ya.”

“Sure doesn’t feel that way.”

YOU

“I promise you, no one will ever…ever hurt you again.” The way Joel said it, it was like he had murder in his eyes. He was so intense that you believed him, like he would protect you. You felt a thrill pass down your spine from his gruff voice. He was always a rugged man with his height, his broad shoulders and intimidating dark eyes but now, he looked downright deadly.

For a minute you worried that Joel could be responsible— no he would never. Even if he did, could you really be upset at him making this community safer? Did that make you a bad person?

He was looking at you like prey he wanted to devour. It made your pulse race, it made your core throb. The tension had been growing since the walk back and it was evident to both of you. Joel circled the kitchen counter to come right in front of you. Both your glasses forgotten, he caged you in with his hands on the counter bracketing your hips. Without a word he brought a hand up to cup your cheek, his calloused skin caressed your skin much lighter than you were expecting. The only sound in the house was your heavy breathing as he stared down at you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about Joel. Not necessarily bad but just something sharp and scary, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as he slowly leaned down to hover his lips over yours, asking for more.

Even if Joel was a bad man, fuck it.

You leaned up slightly to meet his lips and all self control went out the window. His hands were all over you in a second, hips pressed into yours as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Your head spun as he licked into you and nipped at your bottom lip causing a whimper to escape your lungs. It all became very frantic as he lifted you up onto the counter and bit and kissed his way down your neck. You knew there would be evidence of it the next morning and it kind of excited you to know you’d have Joel’s marks on you. His greedy hands were groping and squeezing every inch of you and you couldn’t get enough. With your own shaky hands you tried to unbutton his shirt but Joel stopped you.

“R’ya sure baby girl?” You swore you felt slick dripping down your inner thighs. “Jus’ gotta tell me and I’ll stop, ’k?”

All you could do was nod.

“I need words.”

“Y-yes,” you practically moaned.

“Good girl.” Fuck, his voice. Your hips rolled forward on the counter, trying to gain any friction. Your clit was pulsing with need and both of you were getting impatient. “Thank god, otherwise I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” He mumbled it almost to himself.

You gasped as he pulled off the counter and led you up the stairs in silence. Any other person would think he was angry but you knew, he was anything but. He led you to your bedroom and it briefly dawned on you that he was leading you there, he knew where your bedroom was. There was always something intense about Joel, you knew that from the start, it's one of the reasons you were drawn to him. But due to recent events you were starting to question just how depraved he might be. You hated to assume anything but you somehow knew deep down that he was the one who… saved you from Mike. That’s what it was, he saved you from being killed, or worse.

Once in your bedroom Joel turned and pushed you against the wall, attaching his lips to your neck.

He hummed deep in his throat, almost a moan. “Mhmm, darlin’ you are so sweet. Y’smell so good.” He was mumbling into your throat, half kissing, half biting. You were each pulling clothes off the other, desperate to feel skin. When Joel had you completely bare for him, you tried to cover yourself, mostly out of habit.

“You… you are perfect baby.” His eyes dark with desire as he pulled your hands up his mouth and kissed your knuckles. “Don’t cover up, I wanna see ya.” He pulled your hands away as he backed you up to the bed and gently pushed you back onto the soft quilt. You stared up at him, taking in his form, he was still in his jeans but bare from the waist up. You admired his graying hair that led below his belt, mouth watering at the bulge underneath. Before you could reach for his belt, he looped his strong arms under your knees and pulled your butt toward the end of the bed. With cracking knees he knelt in front of the bed and his face became level with your dripping core. His eyes were locked on you, his lips almost matching the way you drooled between your legs.

“Joel—,” you were unable to form words, the breath perpetually caught in your throat.

“Shhh, I know hon, I gotcha,” his voice was lower than you ever heard it, something dangerous simmering below the surface.

“Joel, wait—,” he moved up your body at your request. “I just… I’m confused,” you were shaking and out of breath but you needed to ask him. “I thought you didn’t like me… it’s just every time we would see each other you seemed to avoid me at all costs and now…”

“The only reason I was acting like that was because I liked you… too much.” His eyes hovered directly over yours, deep pools of obsidian overtaken with the desire. “I thought I was protecting you, from myself. But I… I,” he almost seemed nervous in a way, but there was still the underlying grumble of anger in his chest.

“What?”

“I see now that I have to protect you from everyone else.” He said it with such a darkness settled over his face, and it took you a minute to register what he was admitting.

He killed Mike. Holy shit.

Your whole body froze and you felt your eyes widen and breath pick up. But you also had this deep feeling in your gut, was that arousal? Were you attracted to this? That dropping feeling in your stomach told you that you were. Jesus, did that make you a bad person? Fuck it.

You grasped your fingers through his hair, pulling him down to you as you attached your lips to his.

JOEL

You were a vision, puffy lips wet from kissing, eyes blown wide as your chest heaved. “You protected me?”

Oh, fuck me.

“Of course baby girl,” he needed you to know this was all for you. He was yours and you were his. “No one will take you from me.”

He worked his way down your body, kissing and nipping his way to your center again. He spread your legs and stared into your dripping folds as he got onto his knees again. You whimpered and moaned his name and he relished the sounds, he loved hearing and seeing you react to his touch. He wanted nothing more than to hear you scream his name.

“I wanna feel ya’ cum on my tongue darlin’,” he loved the way your pussy drooled for him. Joel felt like a man starved, like he was finally seeing water after a year in the desert. He licked a broad stripe up your folds then sealing his lips around your clit and sucking. You screamed and he felt your thighs wrap around his head only spurring him on further. He pulled your legs in front of him and pushed to the mattress, opening you up further for his enjoyment. When he worked two fingers into you, he knew you were close based on your shaking and whimpering.

“I-I’m so close baby,” you sounded so cute, so desperate. “I need— please Joel.”

He wanted you to fall apart, speeding up his movements he knew it wouldn’t be long now. He curled his fingers while lapping at your clit, he felt your walls flutter and tighten around his fingers.

“Cum for me angel.”

You broke. Joel’s fingers were covered in your juices and you screamed his name as you came. He kept up his movements to prolong your pleasure, he reveled in the way your legs shook with overstimulation.

“Oh… my god,” you sighed as Joel crawled his way back up to your face, slotting himself between your legs.

YOU

He entered you slowly. You could feel every vein and edge of him and you were thankful he readied you with his fingers because Joel was not a small man. He started slow, presumably for your benefit, but soon his pace picked up and the crown of his dick was hitting a spot inside of you that made you see stars.

“Fuck— You feel so good,” he puncuate each word with with his hips, each time driving you up the bed. You grabbed onto his shoulders, trying to gain leverage but you were unable to do anything except take his brutal pace. He was past holding himself back now, you swore you felt him in places you never thought possible. You recognized somewhere in the back of your mind that letting the man who… murdered someone for you fuck you into your mattress might be a bad move. Too bad he was too good at it for you to care. You felt the coil of your orgasm tightening in your lower stomach as Joel leaned back, looming over you like a dark angel.

“I want you to touch yourself,” he pulled one of your hands towards your clit. “Cum for me baby.”

You pressed and circled your fingertips into the bundle of nerves, your pleasure just seconds from cresting. Joel must have felt it because he gripped your hips and pulled you into his lap, picking up his pace and punching into your g-spot.

“Oh fuck!— I’m gonna cum baby…plea—,” you couldn’t even get the rest of the word out as your orgasm crashed into you. You think you might have blacked out as your vision went blank for a moment and you think you heard yourself screaming. Joel kept up his pace and rode you through it all.

“Mmm that’s it, that’s my good girl…,” his voice was low and gravely in your ear when he leaned over, pushing almost all his weight on top of you while he chased his high.

“P-please Joel, cum inside m-me,” his harsh movements made it hard to talk, hard to breathe. You didn’t care though, you were desperate to feel him finish inside you.

“Inside you baby? Ngh, tha—that’s my good gi—,” he didn’t finish his sentence either as he almost collapsed on top of you. You wrapped your legs around his hips and held him there as he filled you up. He grunted and groaned in your ear as he came down, he pulled out slowly making sure you were comfortable and kissed his way down your neck and chest. “Stay here baby.” You laid there unable to move and watched his naked form as he found your bathroom with ease and came back with a warm washcloth. As he cleaned you, you recalled his words, ‘my good girl’. His.

“Joel?” He didn’t respond with words, only hummed at you to continue while he cleaned your inner thighs. “Did you mean it? I’m…,” you were hesitant to speak it, what if you were wrong? What if it was something he said in the heat of the moment. You felt the bed dip and he settled beside you, towel discarded.

“Use your words honey, what’s on your mind?” He moved a bit of hair out of your face and waited patiently for you to continue.

“I’m yours? Not just tonight.” You met his gaze with timid eyes.

“Yes, of course. Y’have been since I first saw you.” He kissed you deep, lips prying yours apart. “I protected you, remember? I wasn’t gonna let anyone hurt you, especially not him.”

He looked at you with nothing but truth in his eyes. He really did kill Mike, holy shit. He did it for you. In this world maybe you could rest easier knowing you had someone to protect you like that. Joel may be a scary man, but you had nothing to fear for yourself with him around. You slept that night more soundly than you had in ten years. wrapped in the strong arms of a man who chased your nightmares away.

[angelplummie]

TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS!

ART X TASHI X PATRICK X F!READER

part 1 part 2

this one is exposition and build up for the smut eventually! enjoy my princesses

tashi duncan stole from you.

in many ways, many times. the first was when she thrashed you in your very first college tennis tournament. you would always remember the sound she made, that war cry. it was like she had decapitated you or something. she stole victory from you that day.

then she did it again, and again, and again. every single time she played you, she beat you. you could annihilate everyone but her, crushed them all to dust. but she was the one person that would not be decimated. you didn’t speak off the court, didn’t look at each other twice in the halls of stanford. but she had this look on her face. this smug, knowing look. here to lose again? it said. and you weren’t some average joe shmoe tennis girl. you were really good. people that had no reason to bolster your ego had told you that, so you knew it to be true. you were fucking brilliant, and she had no right to look at you like you were dirt. you gave her a tough match, but still she looked at you like she knew she was going to win.

when asked about her, all you could say was “i hate that smug bitch.”

what she said about you you didn’t know, and not for lack of trying. you didn’t know if she even spoke of you at all. the thought made you angrier than when she beat you. once, when at the same party, she waved at you.“hi,” she said, and gave you that same i-just-beat-you look. she was taller than you, and craned her neck unnecessarily far to look at you. where did that stupid bitch get off?

she was this towering roadblock, the one thing stopping you from entering the upper echelons of tennis royalty. you had the fucking talent, you had put in the fucking time, you were so fucking good. but you weren’t stanfords sweetheart. you just weren’t. everyone knew you were good, but you weren’t the best.

from the matches you had watched, which was nearly all of them, you were the only person she played that gave her a run for her money. she didn’t sweat the way she did when she played you, the points were never so neck and neck. she should be threatened by you, and yet she looked at you like any other silly college floozy that was the best in her high school. tennis was your life, as much as it was hers. she stole your dignity in that way.

the next time she stole from you was patrick zweig. a sort of boyfriend, an in-between, getting there boyfriend. he could’ve been yours. you could’ve been happy together. but tashi duncan couldn’t have that.

you heard whispers about a night in a hotel room, a threesome, a twosome with a watcher, two guys jacking off on tashi duncan. they could deny, deny, deny, but whatever did or didn’t happen meant patrick zweig never returned your calls anymore. you could still recount the exact tonality and pacing of his answering machine message.

it was fine. it’s whatever. he wasn’t a forever boyfriend anyway.

but once a girl has sex with someone, she expects some degree of loyalty, some sort of goodbye. it wasn’t about him, he was cute, a good-not-great fuck, and never claimed to be serious about you. he didn’t matter. it was the fact she had him. together or not, she had him. he belonged to her. even after they broke up, everyone knew he never liked any of his other many girlfriends like he loved her. they used to walk around hand in hand, kiss, and it made you brim with jealousy. not because you gave any kind of fuck about him as a person, but because she got him instead of you. it was her. all her. she had stolen one more thing.

as time passed, your hatred burned just as bright. you practiced day in day out, hoping that somehow she could see you now, somehow she would know you were her equal.

then you met a boy. art donaldson.

you had known he was involved with her. the hotel threesome stories spared no details of the parties involved, despite factual discrepancies in other areas. but you figured, while she was dating his best friend, you were safe from the curse of tashi duncan. you allowed yourself to fall in love, softly, timidly. having met in american literature, you fostered a little spark. a love, barely the size of a candles flame, flickered in your chest. maybe, you had prayed. maybe him. maybe he was yours. you kissed at new years for the first time, and days later he met your parents. it was new, fresh, but it was love. you loved him.

and then she stole from you for the final time. in one foul swoop, she took everything from you.

it was the final of the college tournament. the two stanford angels playing each other for the victory. the court was red and packed, newly redone. you both wore white. whoever won this was guaranteed a shot at the open in the summer, and that was all you needed. you were so fucking ready. no one was better than you. no one. you had trained so hard, art could attest to it, hell, the entire school could attest to it. ask anyone who saw you around that time, they would’ve seen a scowl on your face and a racket on your back. those who had the pleasure of watching you play would’ve say it: you were fucking good.

that’s why it crushed you. across from her, at match point, advantage duncan, you watched as her knee moved independent from her leg. in between grunting and pelting, there was a crack, and tashi duncan was no more. a hush fell over the crowd as she cried, fell to the ground clutching her knee. you heard that. but you didn’t hear the ear splitting scream that came from your own mouth, couldn’t feel your body sprint, jump the net to crouch by her side. beads of perspiration rolled down her face, scrunched in agony. she bared her teeth like a cornered animal, and looked up at you through her squeezed eyes. her knee looked awful, so you stared at the rest of her. without thought you placed a hand on the top of her head. to comfort her you think.

it was so quiet. the only sound was her crying, her laboured breath stilling your heart to a lifeless thud.

“it’s ok,” you said,”you’re going to be ok, tashi.”

you remembered feeling an inexplicable sadness, a grief that you had never known before. you wanted to get rid of her pain, any and all of it. none of it came from you, you didn’t want her to have it. but that was so quickly forgotten. because as you moved to touch her shoulder with your shaking hand, it was eclipsed by another. a larger hand, the hand of a man. a pale hand. a hand you had touched before, even kissed. the hand of your man.

your eyes met, each with equal fear, horror and sadness. it was then that you knew that the curse of tashi duncan wouldn’t rest until you died. she would steal and steal and steal, even beyond the grave. he looked caught, because he was. he was caught. once you loved tashi you never stopped. he had raced into the court because she had fallen at a game he attended to watch you play, had touched her shoulder with the hand that had held you. he was not yours, as much as you needed him to be. his eyes twinkled with regret, but told you everything you needed to know.

your hand drew away with a flick, like it had given you an electric shock. you rose from tashis tortured body. his hand slipped to where yours had rested. this was all somehow not her fault, while being her fault entirely. you hated her so much it made your heart bleed. you didn’t want anything to do with her anymore. no whisper of her name, no nothing. from this moment on she was dead to you.

you didn’t bother looking over your shoulder to see if art was watching you leave. he wasn’t. the umpire boomed something through a mega phone, something like wait. but you were going home.

in the hall you bumped shoulders with patrick zweig. he was rushing to find her. he looked at you once to apologise hurriedly, twice to utter your name in recognition, and a third time to look at your back and wonder why you were so down. tashi was out. you won by default.

[t1red-twilight]

don’t call me “d”

summary: a girl pushes herself onto dean during a case.

content/warnings: gn!reader, angst?, fluff?, light hurt/comfort

notes: sorry if your name is victoria. i’m sure you’re lovely

word count: 1.6k

masterlist d. w. masterlist

you, dean, and sam were currently up north in new england working on a case. just the morbid usual: a couple of strange deaths, all the doors were locked, et cetera, et cetera. the most recent victim was a man named evan, who was almost decapitated.

halfway through interrogating the most recent victim’s friends and family, the victim’s sister decided that she would tag along. she had caught on to what the three of you were actually investigating and she wanted in.

her name was victoria, but insisted that she be called vic. a feisty thing, she was. ‘vic’ had long red hair, and did not care for any sort of personal space. at least, with dean she didn’t. when you introduced yourselves to her, it was explicitly expressed that you were dean’s partner. she didn’t care to respect that in the slightest.

at first, she was seemingly respectful. this façade didn’t last long. soon she was fruitlessly flirting with dean and completely ignoring both you and sam.

it didn’t help that perhaps in another circumstance she might’ve been dean’s type. she was tall and slender with a playful attitude. you knew from the beginning that you were in for a long one.

vic’s brother had an uncle that he was close with. she had willingly given his address, and that’s where the four of you were headed.

you grumbled in annoyance. vic had not let dean have any space, no matter how hard he tried to walk in tandem with you. eventually you had just given up and just walked beside sam.

it was evident that you were pissed, sam immediately sensed how livid you were. “you alright?”

“just peachy!” you replied, sarcasm flooding your tone. as you said this, dean turned and slowed so that he could walk with you and sam. you tried to distract yourself by examining the neighborhood, but your train of thought was cut off by dean speaking in a confrontational tone.

“victoria, you can leave. we’ve got this. we’re professionals.” dean gave her a deadpan look and when she didn’t move, he followed with a tautly-stretched smile. she still didn’t move.

“don’t be silly, d. i’m coming. evan was my brother.” dean muttered a couple profanities under his breath.

the look of irritation very present on his face. this didn’t last long as you had reached your destination.

vic did the honors of knocking on her uncle’s door. it took the man a moment to answer, and when he did he was clearly in a state of distress. it makes sense when one of your close relatives meets an untimely, violent end.

however, what vic did next shocked you to your core. when her uncle answered the door, she reached behind her and pulled dean to her side. then she spoke in a loud, clear tone, “this is my boyfriend, dean, and his friends. we just wanted to talk about evan, see how you’re holding up. is that alright?”

the man nodded and opened the door, but when you and sam were about to walk in she shut it in your faces. she wiggled her fingers at you in a wave. your blood was boiling. what did she think she was doing? did she honestly think that by forcing herself on dean would make him want her?

you turned and sat abruptly on the porch stairs. sam followed you. “she’s a little, uh, spirited, isn’t she?” sam turned to look at you. your brows were furrowed and illustrated your expression with the disdain you were feeling.

“yep.” you responded curtly. you were seeing red. sam tapped his foot against the concrete in impatience. “i don’t like her.”

“she’s extremely pushy.” sam sighed. the both of you sat in silence for about half an hour before dean and vic finally emerged.

dean reached down and helped you up off of the stairs. he then spoke broadly to sam and you. “well, the guy knows nothing more than what we knew. evan was a stand up kid who was suddenly found dead with defensive wounds, but no windows were broken or doors unlocked in his apartment. apparently he visited his uncle the night before it happened and was acting a little frantic.”

vic hung off of dean’s arm. “see, d, i told you. that old guy doesn’t know anything.

dean shook her off and gave her a curt smile. “don’t call me d.”

sam decided it was a good idea to look over evan’s apartment again. you had decided to look around the kitchen, where the body was found the morning after.

damn, evan’s apartment was cold. you wondered if that was the default setting or a symptom of something else. it was eerily quiet, too; quiet enough that your ears rung. you squatted to get a better look at the place where the body was found, and you saw some blood that had crusted over.

while you were examining the baseboards and the blood that had clearly been missed by the clean-up team, you heard someone approaching you from behind. “some blood was missed by clean-up. that’s gross, don’t you-“

you turned, fully expecting it to be one of the boys from the weight of the footsteps, but coming face-to-face with the spirit that had evidently killed evan. “dean! sam!” you shouted. you tried to get to your feet, but you weren’t fast enough. the spirit got close enough to you to knock you back.

unfortunately, neither party arrived before the spirit lunged at you and slashed your upper arm. the pain was sharp and quick, and you soon felt warm blood trickle out of the wound. the ghost vanished soon after.

you were able to find some bandages in the back of the impala and cover it up with a long sleeved button down of dean’s. you figured you’d worry about caring for it properly later once everything was over. hopefully, no one had seen how much you were bleeding and you could get away with pretending you were fine.

later that night, after some more snooping online (mostly on sam’s part), you could find the grave that held the corpse you were looking for.

dean had dug up the grave of said ghost. he salted it and burned it, and that was the end of it. you were quite surprised; in the past the burning hadn’t been too successful. if you were being honest, your rage blacked out most of the events that happened for the rest of the night.

the dirt crunched under your feet as you walked back to the impala. vic trailed after dean; your shoulders tensed. the scene mirrored a mother duck and her ducklings. luckily, you made it to the passenger seat before someone else could. you slammed the door and your arm stung with pain again. you hoped that no one had seen you flinch.

the ride back to vic’s place was awkward, to say the least. soft rock filled the silence, and that calmed you slightly.

the impala jerked to a stop in front of vic’s house. “do i really have to go, d?” she poured. how pathetic of her.

dean turned and answered her instantaneously. “yes, and don’t call me d.”

her pitiful pout worsened, “are you sure? we could have some fun?”

“yes. get out of my car.” when she didn’t, he followed up. “now, please.” finally she listened to what dean was saying and left. dean didn’t even wait to see her to get inside, he just sped off to the motel you were staying that night.

the motel bed was calling you. at arrival you practically jumped out of the car and into the room. it was just a typical run-down motel, but you couldn’t wait until you drove out of town and forget today ever happened.

“woah there tiger. wait up for the rest of us,” dean jogged to meet you. “let’s take care of your gash now, alright?”

you closed your eyes and sighed. suddenly you were extremely aware of dean. you were very much emotionally exhausted. “it’s not that bad. the bandage will hold up just fine.” at this, dean grabbed your hands.

“please? just let me take care of you.” the shines in his eyes was convincing enough.

that’s how you found yourself in the dirty bathroom, sitting on the toilet with dean sealing your wound with stitches. “you’re not mad at me, right?”

you were stumped that this notion. “no? why would i be?” you blinked in poorly veiled shock.

he spoke plainly, “because victoria was falling all over me all day today.”

you looked astray to the confusing red shower curtain. “that’s not your fault though. it’s not your fault that she can’t respect your boundaries.”

“i just care about what you think, you know,” he stated, not looking away from binding your arm with more gauze.

hesitating, you thought both about what to respond with and how you actually felt about the whole situation. you thought it was clear that you weren’t mad at dean. you were just mad at how vic couldn’t stand that one man couldn’t want her. well, obviously it hadn’t been. how long had dean thought you were upset with him? did he-

dean broke the silence. “i lost you there for a second.”

you shook off your thoughts. “oh, sorry. i don’t blame you for her actions at all. you stated what you wanted several times. kind of crazy that she fully ignored us telling her we’re together,” you expressed with a lopsided smile.

he looked up into your eyes, “so we’re good?” his green eyes showed the slight apprehension he still carried.

you lightly tugged your arm out of his hold and held his face in your hands. “of course we are, d,” kissing his forehead afterward.

“i love it when you call me that,” he smiled.

“you missed,” he said.

“huh?”

“you missed.” he guided your face down toward his and greeted your lips with his. you kissed him in a way that you hoped affirmed him that you were both okay. that today hadn’t changed how you felt about him in the slightest. you felt him grin against your kiss. you pulled away and smiled at him.

suddenly you were aware of the toilet seat beginning to be uncomfortable as you sat, so you stood. dean followed.

“it’s cold out. let’s go warm up,” he said impishly. while flirtatious, you were aware he meant just to sleep.

“yeah, that sounds great,”

[natewriteslol]

Hiii! I read your works alot because it's one of the active twst writers I see (I'm a dead writer myself LMAO)

Savanaclaw, riddle and Azul with a reader who's cheery and often bouncing with optimism that always has the mind boggling stories to tell. What do you mean that they literally man handed a lion because it won't stop messing around? What do you mean they were in a pit full of scorpions because they accidentally rolled down a hill? What do you mean they literally escaped a real decapitation (hinting towards Riddle LMAO) because he put one spoon full of herbs instead of a teaspoon? Like— they could go on forever! And the thing is, they have evidence of it.

Thank youuu 🫶🫶🫶🫶

A/N: Thank u so much I've been trying to stay on top of writing but it can get so hard!! But I really do try to keep this fandom alive w some goodies, anyways I'll stop yapping heres

Savanaclaw, Azul, and Riddle with a cheery, adventurous Reader!

Leona:

He didn't exactly always question your storytelling before he got to get to know you as he would rather spend time sleeping. But it seemed like literally everyone was captivated by your latest entertaining experience.

As you guys' relationship grew, it got to the point where he couldn't ignore you dropping an insane piece of lore about yourself.

"Yeah, I was accidentally poisoned before-"

"What did you just say-"

"It's okay though, the gnome did apologize and I got my stomach pumped but everything is all good!"

He makes sure to keep an eye out on you, and honestly your stories are the main thing that keep him awake during the day especially because they're real. And although it may seem he's nonchalant when you message him about where you're at, Leona always makes sure to respond as he does care.

Jack:

As your first friend at NRC and protector kinda, he would get paranoid when you would sometimes disappear. However at first Jack believed you were an independent person, and wasn't up to any nefarious activity.

Until you came back with a gorgon head in a brown sack where he was studying in the autobiography section in the library talking about that you accidentally defeated it.

He screamed in terror upon seeing the thing, causing for him to be shushed completely by offended students. But he could not care less due to the sliced head within the sack, however he quickly took you both outside and you being you didn't exactly see the problem in this situation.

Once you where in an open area near NRC's well he began to question you.

"Why-? A-And how? Why are you like this, do you know how much danger you were in?!"

"To answer all your questions in order, 1. I got lost and she had a huge problem with me, 2. I got scared and ran with my eyes closed with the sword and BOOM, just clean off, and yes I know I was in a lot of danger and I'm very sorry for not responding to your calls."

He was way too scared for both you and himself to respond and learned his lesson to keep an eye on you more.

Ruggie:

Ruggie always told you that he was a "see it to believe it" type person and he was never really believing your wild tales you would tell even if you came back with a little souvenir. He always just assumed you were pulling his leg for a bit.

Until he texted you one day over Magicam, since it was a slow day at the Savannaclaw dorm. Only for you to reply with a video, making him click on it not knowing what he should expect.

Queue you to being in an extremely angry dragon's mouth,

"Hey Ruuggieee! I'll get back to you later since I'm in a pickle right now, but I promise I'll call you when I'm done!"

He nearly passed out upon the sight because what in all of the sevens' names doing inside of that deadly beast. The beast man ended up walking to Ignihyde to possibly get Idia to track your location based on your I.P address, only for his phone to ring just as he was about to blab about what happened.

It was you!

He quickly picked up his phone to hear your excited voice blaring on the phone, "I told you I would call you back! Anyways, come over to my house I have something to show you."

You ended up bringing home a dragon's tooth and treasure and while Ruggie was overjoyed, he reprimanded you for being irresponsible.

But he wouldn't mind it too much if you brought back goodies like this just make sure to let him know so he could tag along.

Azul:

You were running late to a meeting about mending a contract between students he scammed. Since you know him quite well and is a good friend of his, the students thought your kind hearted nature could persuade him out of binding them to the Monstro Lounge for an entire semester.

He written in a small font on the contract that if you were over 15 minutes late, you would be unable to host this meeting and the deal would be off completely. The white haired boy glanced at the clock as the time ticked and he would have his own free work force.

Until you had to come 30 seconds from it being called off completely out of breath.

"Sorry Azul! But I got you a little present from the desert," you said dropping down in your seat and digging through this brown sack.

The ancient golden scarab of the Hot Sands.

"Is that-"

"The golden scarab included with the jewel eyes? Yup and I did it all by myself!" You said, extremely proud of yourself.

"Do you understand the value of what you have in your hand? And what were you doing all the way out there by yourself I just talked to you a day ago and that is damn near a 5 day journey?"

"I did this since I did the calculations and about an 1/4 of the wages that the students owe you is in the value of this jewel bug here. So if I split the riches with you, will you let them go?"

You did all of this for some measly students you knew in passing? How could you jeopardize yourself like that?

But he at the same time, respected you greatly and for your trouble and kind heart.

However, he told you to not go anywhere without telling him.

And no of course it's not because he cares about you and was scared once you told him where you went...of course not...

Riddle:

Is the first person who noticed you were gone because he likes to keep tabs on his friends. He didn't know what to expect but the red head just believed you were busy.

So, Riddle decided to shoot you a text as everyone was hanging out in the Heartslabyul dorm and he really wanted to see you.

'Good afternoon, Y/N please feel free to stop by the Heartslabyul dorm. Your company is very appreciated :)'

You quickly texted back, 'Hey Riddle! I'm gonna swing by with a surprise ;D'

He smiled at his phone, unknowing as to what you were going to bring by. Thinking you might bring by muffins or a sweet treat as such.

Not the sword of Excalibur.

You opened the door, bursting in loudly with the enormous sword slung on your back as Grim carried two sacks of gold. Everyone was completely flabbergasted, as the sword had been known to be a mythological thing not yet proven like the fountain of youth.

But there it was on your back as you grinned.

Turned out you picked up your first job at an exploration company and they sent you on a death wish mission to get this damn sword. And in contrary to what everyone believed would be the outcome, you succeeded and retrieved the artifact.

Unfortunately for you, you ended up being scolded for about two hours straight for being completely irresponsible by Riddle with some chime ins from your friends.

He admired your intense tenacity and bravery, but Riddle was super worried about you whenever you take on a quest. He forced you to have a partner whenever you go on missions and call him every time you reached an important point to make sure you were alive and safe.

"So... you really do care about me-"

"By the great seven- YES ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU COULD'VE GOTTEN KILLED IN THAT DAMN ENCHANTED FOREST-"

[osachiyo]

.* ࣪.⋆ ❐ OH, DARLING ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡

﹙ ✿ ﹚── includes : dazai, chuuya, kunikida, ranpo, fyodor & nikolai x fem!reader

﹙ ✿ ﹚── content warnings : sfw content (very rare from me ☠), fluff, nikolai being an amazing father, a bit of crack, a teeeny tiny suggestive bit but nothing too bad, and ummm children?

﹙ ✿ ﹚── synopsis : bsd men as daddies 😍

﹙ ✿ ﹚── author's note : lmk if y'all want the baby making part aswell 😼

DAZAI ୭·࣭࣪̇˖  

Dazai as a dad in one word is definitely 'silly'. He always knew how to make his baby girl's frown into a smile in mere seconds. He knew her like the back of his hand, always knowing how to calm her down when she's crying or throwing a fit. During your pregnancy he'd try to sing his famous suicide song to his soon to be born baby, only to get smacked in the head by you. He'd always keep a hand on your swollen stomach, excited to feel her kick.

You and Dazai were in your shared bedroom. His lips were on your own soft ones, plump and swollen from him softly nibbling on them. He gently laid you down on the mattress, kissing and nibbling on your ear as he whispered sweet nothings to you. He was about to lift your shirt when suddenly a cry came from the other room. You both jumped and sat up straight on the bed before you rushed out to comfort your crying baby. You picked her up from the crib and shushed her, bouncing your daughter in your arms in hopes for her to calm down. "Its okay, darling. Mommy's right here, see?" You smiled, wiping the tears and snot off her face with a towel. You sighed in relief when she stopped crying, only staring at you with a pout. "What's my princess crying about?" You turn around to see Dazai leaning against the door frame. You walk towards him and hand her over, pouting, "guess she missed her daddy?" He cooed at her, making her giggle and squeal. "Oh, is that right? Aren't you a naughty girl, interrupting mommy and daddy's spicy time like this?" He pinched her nose softly, his tone playful but holding so much love. He truly adored this baby. You huff playfully, crossing your arms. "I'm the one who carried her for nine months but you're her favourite?! This is so unfair." He chuckled, kissing your cheek. "Don't worry, love. You'll always be my favourite." You made a disgusted face, "I'd rather not." "Wha—Why?!"

CHUUYA ୭·࣭࣪̇˖  

This man is the best dad any kid could ever ask for. He was genuinely so damn nervous when you first told him you were pregnant, almost thinking it was a prank until you told him no, you were actually having a baby. He was excited and scared at the same time, but you reassured him that he would make a wonderful father, and he did.

Chuuya was taking care of the baby today since you had to go and run some errands. He silently stared at his son absolutely demolishing the Barbie doll Dazai had gifted him, foolishly assuming you guys had a girl. His son, who had just turned two, straight up decapitated the doll and is now trying to rip off it’s arm. Chuuya debated whether he would stop the child before he accidentally hurts himself. He finally decided to just take a video and send it to you with the caption, “this is what we raised.” He placed the phone aside and strode over to his son, gently trying to take the downright brutalized doll away from him but he wouldn’t budge, tightening his grip on the toy, “mine!” Chuuya sighed, wondering just where this kid got his stubbornness from.

You arrived back home just one hour later, "I'm home!" You first placing the groceries in their designated spots before heading to the livingroom to see your husband and son. The living room was...a complete mess. Barbie limbs were scattered on the tiled floor, some even had teeth marks on them, indicating that the little boy was chewing on them. You sighed and your eyes landed on the sofa, where the two most important people of your life were sleeping peacefully. Your eyes softened. You walked over to the couch and gently kissed your son's cheek before doing the same to Chuuya. You noticed there was a Barbie head somehow stuck to his ginger hair. You laughed quietly, he definitely took after him.

KUNIKIDA ୭·࣭࣪̇˖  

When you told him you were pregnant, he was absolutely over the moon. He was very protective during your pregnancy, not letting you go to work or do any household chores. He wanted to be the ideal husband and father for you and the bundle of joy you were giving birth to. He was with you every step of the way, reassuring you that everything would be fine and you were both in this together. He knew you'd be an amazing mother.

Kunikida woke up from the sound of a chair scraping against the floor. He squinted and reached for his phone, '2:16 am'. He sat up straight, blinking the sleep away as he got out of the comfort of the shared bed. He glanced at you, leaning in to kiss your forehead before walking out of the bedroom. He quietly headed towards the kitchen only to see his 3 year old daughter standing atop a chair infront of the fridge, tub of the cookie dough flavoured ice cream in her stubby hands. She tries to scoop it out with an ice cream scooper but alas, the ice cream is too hard. His heart clenched at the adorable sight of her pouting, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she tries her best to scoop the cold treat out. He snaps out of it and clears his throat, hands on his hips while he interrogated her, "and what're you doing up so late?" She whipped her head towards her father's direction, startled by his stern voice. She quickly tries to hide the ice cream tub behind her, the scooper falling out of her grasp in the process. "n-nothing!" He sighed and picked the metal tool up from the floor, walking over to the sink to clean it before getting a bowl and returning back to his little girl. "Give that here," he takes the tub of ice cream, scooping a healthy amount in the bowl before giving it to her. "Don't tell mommy, okay?" She nodded, too busy savouring the sweet taste of the ice cream. He pinches her cheek playfully, "you're such a messy eater..and do not think you'll be getting away with this everytime, young lady." He scolds, flicking her forehead, making her whine. If only they both knew you've been watching the entire time, heart doing backflips at the cuteness of it.

RANPO ୭·࣭࣪̇˖  

Ranpo was...an interesting father to say the least. He wasn't terrible but he definitely wasn't the best. You didn't expect anything more, considering he's a full grown adult with a toddler's mentality. While your pregnancy, he helped you with most stuff but he would not tolerate your mood swings. He once called you bratty while you were in your trimester and you smacked the shit out of him, which was deserved according to Yosano while he whined about it to her. He bought you your flowers and chocolates as an apology later. This man almost cried when he held the baby in his arms for the first time but he'd rather die than admit that.

Ranpo stared at you breastfeeding your baby boy in utter focus. His eyes were narrowed to slits as he observed his son stealing your tits from their rightful owner. You deadpanned at him, "honey, is something the matter?" He pouted, "I want milk too~" You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose, mentally patting yourself on the back for dealing with his shenanigans every day. "You're not a baby, Ranpo.." "but you said I'm your baby! You call me baby every day, no?" Your son side eyed his dad for a second before going back to drinking peacefully. "Did you see that?! Did you see how he looked at me?!" Ranpo accusedly pointed a finger at the small child and you shook your head. "He's just a baby, darling. I don't think he can give you a nasty look at this age..." Your husband only crosses his arms angrily before crawling towards you on the bed, reaching for one of your boobs when his son side eyed him again, judging hard. Ranpo ignored the look and leaned in to take you in his mouth when your son started crying, waving his arms around in clear distress. You tried to calm him down, bouncing him in your lap and kissing his chubby face., "aww baby don't cry~ daddy is a weirdo? I know, baby, I know." Ranpo gasped, grumbling something about 'sharing is caring'. "so sharing is caring until it comes to you sharing your snacks?" You commented, giggling mischeviously with your son, who was now beaming as he watched his dad sulk away.

FYODOR ୭·࣭࣪̇˖  

Fyodor was an amazing husband to you as long as you obeyed him like a good wife should that sounds borderline sexist but ok. He was also very caring and protective during your pregnancy, always looking out for you, making sure you're well fed, not letting you do chores by yourself, you get the idea. Fortunately, the whole process went very smoothly, he was there almost every step of the way. When he held the small child in his arms, he felt a joy he didn't know he could. The small bundle of sunshine got fyodor's raven hair, your eyes and his face structure. He just loved that kid so much and you could tell by the way he spoke to her so gently, cradling her in his arms as he promised her that would take good care of you both.

Fyodor was currently busy with giving his precious daughter a bath, the three year old jumping in excitement as she loves her bathtime. Usually you'd be the one helping her bathe, but you couldn't do that today because of a fever. So your dear husband took over the household duties for today. You tried to reassure him that he didn't have to, but he wouldn't budge, forcing you to lay down and rest while he took care of everything.

Now here he was, trying to choose which bathbomb he should pick for his three year old daughter. He settles on a sparkly purple one with pink swirls, "How's this one, love?" The toddler's eyes widen, curiously gazing at it with her big, doe eyes. He smiled and plopped the bathbomb in the tub, watching his daughter squeal as it fizzes up. "Oh! 's pwetty, daddy!" She giggled, splashing some water at him. He chuckled, head resting on his palm, thinking about how adorable she was.

NIKOLAI ୭·࣭࣪̇˖  

Bro went to get the milk faster than lighting itself.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, likes and reblogs are very appreciated♡

[nabwastaken]

so i convinced my brother to watch npmd

for context, he's the one who got me into starkid in the first place, but was never a big fan of it as a whole (we watched avpm a couple years back, and he watched twisted and tgwdlm himself)

so he's like. a casual fan. he's not in the hatchetfield hyperfixation hell i'm in, having only seen tgwdlm a few years back and not watching nmt or bf

suffice to say, he liked it!

highlights of the night include:

Him simping over Steph immediately as the show started

Me explaining different running gags that got brought up

Him commenting and cringing on the show's portrayal of teens which.. yeah

Him saying that Dirty Girl was more awkward then sexy (but being freaked out nonetheless)

Him calling out that Grace would be the murderer right away, but thankfully that thought went away as soon as Max died

At the part right before the Max death scene, he commented "oh this is so sweet" and then Max. You know.

During Go Go Nighthawks, I very loudly yelled out "FUCK CLIVESDALE". Later on when Grace tries to frame the Chemists my dear brother also said "Yeah, fuck clivesdale!" confirming he is one of us now

He knows about my obsession with Dan and Donna, and witnessed my very audible reaction when they showed up the first time to report on Max's disappearance

After the scene I say they showed up later on and during the interrogation scene in the principal's office he said "When will Dan and Donna show up again?"

Of course, they did show up again for Hatchet Town, leading to me having the same reaction AGAIN, which lead him to commenting "They're not canon, right?" Which. OW.

When Dan came on and said, "I am Dan Reynolds" I pointed at him and said "There he is! My guy! He is Dan Reynolds!" all while my brother just awkwardly nodded along

Me singing all the parts in Hatchet Town

Me explaining the cameos in Hatchet Town

After Hatchet Town I continued to freak out over Dan and Donna and continuingly reiterated the point that I ship them and I love them all while my brother was like "Yeah. Yep."

During the Barbecue Monologues, he says "Is this a reference to the Vagina Monologues?"

I commented on how a lot of people said that Just For Once gives them Falsettos vibes, and my brother LOVES Falsettos so he was immediately like "okay yeah yeah i get it go onto the song"

Him saying "Oh this is depressing" towards the end of Just For Once

Him freaking out when Paul and Emma arrived (they're the only characters he recognized)

Him also freaking out over If I Loved You, with him saying it was his favorite song in the show

In the scene in the forest where Max throws Miss Mulberry's decapitated "head" my brother said "That's Chappell Roan" and now I can't unsee it.

Him being terrified during The Summoning (later on he said "those weird god things scared me")

Him pointing at Blinky and saying "That's Chappell Roan"

The look of dread on his face when he realizes Steph would have to kill Pete

Me continuingly hammering in the point that "Steph and Pete will die" and then him being like "Why couldn't Grace give something up, huh??" and then me responding, pretending not to laugh, "What's she gonna give up? Her dad?" and then he responded "Yeah, her gay dad" (for context, earlier on during the chasity's scene i mentioned most people thinking Mark was gay)

Him just being absolutely depressed during CAITA reprise

AND THEN the look on his face when Max came in and caught the bullet with him continuingly asking and reiterating "So they're not gonna die?"

The shock and horror on his face when Grace and Max did it on the football field

Me telling him that Best of You was the ending number

AND THEN his jaw dropping when Grace pulled out the book and started singing dirty dudes must die. later on he said "it gagged him"

[fishsinsareacknowledged]

how do you think Nikto would react if his lover (who is usually a very chill and simple guy) brought him Zakhaev's head as a gift

the bf found out what was done to Nikto and by whom and his first response was "i gotta kill that guy i got no other option". reader turns into john wick and baba yaga's into Zakhaev's place to get his ass and bring Nikto a lil gift

Ngl I would too if I had Nikto baby.

"You fucking what?"

The man asked, not believing his ears. Almost feigning it as another one of his hallucinations if you, wonderful sweet and stupidly simple you. His fucking lover. His maybe now soulmate, didn't bring him a present box.

And claiming that one his enemies. A nationwide terrorist. The one that fucking ruined his life. Got hunted by one. One simple. Man. Okay maybe he did have a good conscious when he agreed to be yours.

Warily he walked over. Absentmindedly and feeling that first strand of brain matter fizzing out in his mind, picked up the box. And continued his dinner. It's a conversation he could deal with tomorrow.

Though by the way blood was dripping everywhere from the edges of a box to all over the now bloody floors he just cleaned maybe he didn't have to wait till tomorrow.

Opening it cautiously as if it could disappear any moment. He peered into it. He swore his dick twitched from excitement. Oh yeah, you were in for a long, relaxing, praising night.

He could tell from the scratches and stitches on the side of the bastard's face that you had taken it slow and steady. Torturing him. Fuck. He had to ask you for the tape. And maybe fuck you to it.

Oh and using a blunt tool to decapitate Zakhaev? He should buy you that dream build you keep talking about.

He was going to fucking spoil you rotten and more. Drool already dripping down from behind his mask at how grateful he was to have you as a boyfriend. And maybe, have you forever.

It's not once in a lifetime you get such a good hunting dog.

With a snap of his neck and one big step he wall all over you quickly. Peppering kisses like a big fucking mutt, sloppy and messy. Partially bending you over the dinner table as he bombarded you.

"Lyubov'?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you want me to get down on my knees?"

"...what?"

"Or do you want to get down on yours?"

"..."

"Anything's on the table Tonight, sweetheart. Anything."

"Oh."

Canon nikto would probably do the same but with less words and more action honestly.

[prettyboypistol]

TF2 x M!Reader|| How The Mercs Get Jealous!

You and the merc have just started dating, and have kinda kept it on the down low for the time being. While at a neutral zone bar, the Scout from the opposite tram decides to try and shoot his shot with you.

No dadspy.

Scout

He already doesn't like the fact that he is at a bar where BLU is drinking at, even if it was a neutral day! But what really got to him was how blatantly his (obviously inferior, duh!)counterpart started hitting on you! First it was a shot that he covered, then it was a joke that made you laugh a little too loudly. Jeremy bit the inside of his cheek and got between you two rather quickly.

"Hey. Back off freak! Like he'd ever want some knockoff, halfwit, loser lookin' Scout like you!"

You couldn't help but choke back a laugh as the BLU Scout gave Jeremy a once over, then backed away with a sneering of something under his breath.

"Hey, whaddya say!? Say it to my face, punk!" Jeremy shouted. Before he got up from his spot next to you to beat the BLU's face in, you put a hand on his shoulder.

"Jer, please. Like you said, why would I want a knockoff over the #1?"

Jeremy turned to you with a look of confidence- but you knew him well enough to know that he was clearly hiding a but of insecurity.

"You're my Scout." You assured sweetly, "accidentally" brushing your hand against his. That seemed to put his spirits back up.

Soldier

"NOW YOU LISTEN HERE, SON! THIS MAN RIGHT HERE IS RED PROPERTY! IF YOUR SCUMMY BLU HANDS EVEN TOUCH HIM, YOU'LL WISH SOONER THAT YOU TRIED FOR OUR INTELLIGENCE!"

Scout gave you both a weird look and backed off, hands up in a sign of defensiveness. You nudged Soldier's shoulder before quickly whispering in his ear.

"Solly! You're gonna get us to lose bar privileges this week!" You remind him, rather sternly. It had been a while since you had socialized in a neutral zone, after all!

"Why? That Scout was clearly looking to upset the neutral agreement!"

"He asked me about weather probabilities to see if he was going to have to fight in the rain tomorrow! We broke BLUS weather detection, remember?"

"Hmph! Sounds like worming his way into our intelligence! You're lucky I was here to stop him, private!"

You rolled your eyes with a tired smile as you went back to your drink, but felt the hot breath of Soldier in your ear as he bent over you to whisper.

"I caught him making eyes at you and I didn't like it. I don't trust him."

Aww, you couldn't help but find that sweet.

Pyro

You know that one scene from the comics where Pyro cuts a goddam bear in half? Yeah, same thing here. They see you and Scout at the bar, just casually chatting, then when you turn away, the Scout bites his lip and looks at your ass blatantly. To Pyro, Scout morphed into a big, bad wolf. You? You sprouted cute little sheep ears! Pyro wasn't about to let the cute little sheep get eaten, so they lunged at the Scout out of nowhere, the only thing that stopped them from decapitating the poor guy was you swiping the axe from Pyro's hands at the last second.

You profusely apologize to the Scout as you pull Pyro off of him and whisk yourself and your partner away to one of the more quiet corners. You hold Pyro by the hands and direct them to breathe. Once, twice, and a third time, before you let them start to explain themselves.

Once the situation was explained, you kissed their forehead and nodded in sympathy. You knew your partner thought you were in danger, and hell- you would do the same if you saw Pyro in danger they didn't notice! Nonetheless, you thanked Pyro for the protection and talked them down from their worries. You asked your Engineer to explain the situation to the enemy Scout, who refuses to even look at you again.

"Thank you for protecting me, that means a lot that your first instinct was to look out for my safety."

Pyro nodded and pulled you into a hug. They were just worried for you! They knew that there wasn't a good chance that the danger was real- but Pyro was not about to take that chance. Not after they had lost that gamble before.

Demoman

He slammed his hand down between the both of you as Scout leaned in for a whispering in your ear and announced a drinking contest. Whoever lost had to pay the tab! Yeah, the RED Scout was annoyed, but noreso at your blatant advantage! Demoman probably had your insane Medic sew him an auto-recovery from alcohol! That wasn't fair!

So, you and Scout decided to pace yourselves against each other, with Demoman as the judge. As the flirtatious tension morphed into that of competition, Demoman seemed to smile proudly at his work. He didn't mind if people lusted after you- that was a compliment to the fact that he snagged you first! It was only an issue when you didn't notice. That's when he felt he had to intervene.

You had scraped the win by a hair. While you clearly had a lower tolerance than the Scout, you had remembered a few tips and tricks to keep your wits about you longer that the judge himself had taught you! Although, there was no satisfaction of RED paying your tab, as you both had forgotten that the night out was a Mann Co. Sponsored event.

The next morning, Demoman tended to you extra sweet with little possessive nicknames such as "My boy", "my champ", and "Blu's finest". He never mentioned why, though, so you assumed that it was to apologize for the wicked hangover you had.

Engineer

He sits back and watches, but not without ill intent. No, this man plotted that little twig's demise at least 10 times in his head as you two sat a little too close together, as you two got so lost in conversation that you switched beers by accident, how you two seemed to get on a little too well. In fact, Dell had only realized that he was stewing when his mechanical arm cracked off a bit of the table that he had been grasping for dear life.

The noise certainly got both of your attentions, and if it didn't, then the loud curse in a familiar southern accent did. Engue usually kept an air of politeness about him, so you automatically knew something was up as he walked- or rather stormed up to the two of you.

He greeted the Scout with a forced and sickly sweet smile, and he introduced himself quickly before he asked to steal you away for all but a moment. You excused yourself quickly and followed Engie to the bathrooms, where your boyfriend started rambling things you couldn't quite hear. All youu knew was that whatever it was, it wasn't pleasant and it was all directed at that Scout.

"Dell, what's going on? Did that Scout fuck with one of your sentries?"

"No, no. I-" Dell took a moment to compose himself before he spoke again. "No doll, he was making googoo eyes at you, and I don't think I appreciated that kinda disrespect."

You nod, with a hum of acknowledgement. Now that you thought about it, he was acting rather familiar...

"Sorry, I guess I didn't realize how close we were while it was happening. Do you want me to steer clear of him for the night?"

"Well-" Dell said, clearly wanting to say yes. "You're your own man, I don't wanna step on your toes or nothin, it's just that- he uh, he's got some bad intentions with you. I can tell."

You smile sweetly as you give your boyfriend a gentle kiss. "I'd much rather spend the night with you, anyways."

Heavy

Scout barely had the time to get a word out to you as your Heavy scooped you up in a seemingly sudden victory cheer. In one of his hands was a drink, so you assumed that your boyfriend had wanted to congratulate you on something that you had done recently to impress him.

"Tiny man! Come here, I have gift for you for being best teammate!" Heavy announced as he brought you over to a booth and started speaking to you in Russian. Yeah, you could swing your way around Russian well enough to understand certain words. You could make out "no", "bad", and "dangerous" vaguely, but the body language made more sense to you. Heavy didn't trust that Scout too well. He seemed fine with you talking to the RED Engineer, but not the Scout?

"What's wrong?"

Heavy kept his voice low and quiet, for your ears only.

"Scout wanted to make sex with you. Look at his eyes." He muttered with a quick glance to the lithe man. He was more built than your scout, speckled with more freckles and dark blue eyes instead of your Scout's light blue eyes.

"I'd smash his head in if he made a move on me, I promise." You assured your boyfriend sweetly, a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"No no, I will bash his little brains in." Heavy assured.

Sniper

Stalks both of you like a shadow. He allowed Scout to buy you a drink, he allowed him to entertain his boyfriend, hell- he even allowed Scout to put his hand on his boyfriend's shoulder! With a downing of beer, a fast and powerful dart knocked Scout's hat off his head and pinned it to the wall. The look Sniper gave nearly made the Scout drop dead from the venom.

"Missed."

Scout knew damn well that he missed his head, not the dart board. Scout nodded you a quick good evening and scampered back to his team as Sniper looked to the outside. He just wanted to talk, in private.

As soon as you followed Sniper out of the bar, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into the alleyway, pressing you up against the cold brick wall as Sniper kissed you deeply.

You were only given a small moment to breathe as Sniper leaned close to your ear. "Don't you ever let someone touch my boyfriend again, got it?"

"God, you're hot when you're jealous."

"I'll drag you back to my camper if you keep misbehaving." Sniper 'threatened', smiling far too excitedly to be angry at the idea. You took your opportunity to grab him by the wrist and drag him to his van.

Spy

He found it funny and cute in a way, how the RED Scout tried to hit on you. A young man with laughable experience tried to charm a man who had the best of the best that gave him attention? Spy had nothing to worry about. Although, the accepting of the invitation to dance drunkenly made his stomach turn sour. You and Scout laughed and stumbled around each other haphazardly, moreso slapstick joking rather than dancing. At least Scout kept his hands to himself.

Scout started to ask you genuine questions over a calming drink, and that is where Spy snapped. He sauntered over to you with a look of importance as he tapped you on the shoulder.

"Ah, I must steal you away. Miss Pauling had an important message for you." Spy whispered into your ear, his eyes glared with a gloating essence at Scout.

"Well, I'll catch you later, okay?" You smile sweetly to Scout, who waved you goodbye as Spy whisked you away to the other side of the bar before he cloaked himself as he pressed you against the wall. His body was flush against yours, with his hot breath on your neck.

"So, younger men catch your eye? I can be him for a night, if you're curious?" Spy hummed, as you practically heard the Cheshire grin of teasing in his whispered tone as you blushed red. At least you could blame it on the booze.

"No Spy, he's just an old friend. Coincidence that we both work at Mann Co." You whisper back as Spy worked his hands over your body, brazenly groping your chest, legs, and ass while he remained unseen.

Medic

Medic watched as the RED Scout performed a silly little knife trick to impress you, and Medic knew exactly what he was doing. Scout was a puffed up bird, trying to gain your interest. Really, even Archemedes had more of a pretty routine than Scout did! In fact, Medic approached you, with Archmedes on his finger to lure you away from the failed suitor.

As you cooed and doted on the dove, Medic shot Scout a scarily smug look as you were completely distracted with the bird that absolutely loved your affections.

"You know, you're the only one Archemedes ever loved for affection from! Well, aside from me of course! I think he's got a little crush on you!"

You giggle, scratching behind the dove's head with little kisses to his soft feathers. "Ah yes, the bird love of my life. He's so caring. I'd be a housewife for him!" You teased to Medic with a little wink. "He's almost as jealous as you, with how he puffs up when I kiss you."

"You have two jealous men vying for your affection, whoever will you choose?" Medic hummed dramatically.

"Well, Archemedes would never take blood samples to see if we are biologically compatible."

"That was only once!"

[lemonrin-i]

Mwah!!

Pairing: Jade Leech X Reader

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Summary: Jade never had his first kiss, so of course as the more experienced partner, you had to take up the mantle and make the first move-- despite how intimidating Jade Leech was

@catboiie16 @dibbledoodle dedicate this piece to you babygurls

Jade was always an intimidating guy with his towering height and sharp moray teeth, it was a wonder how he even got with you in the first place.

Or the fact that he never had a lover until you.

One could argue intimidation and attraction are two sides of the same coin. While Jade was scary, he was also very VERY attractive, it was almost impossible to imagine no one trying to court him. A male mantis who do anything to woo his female counterpart even if it meant his head being decapitated but you digress.

So here he was, Jade. In a seiza sitting position with his hands politely placed in his lap as he stared at you, waiting. You were to the opposite of him but you were trying your best not to make eye contact with him out of embarrassment.

All these times where you were wondering why Jade never tried to kiss you-- All those time lying in your bed wondering if Jade liked you or was just toying with you and it turns out he just didn't know how to kiss.

"Alright" You got on your knees, holding onto Jade's shoulder to leverage yourself to his height. You looked at him with a determined look

"I'm gonna kiss you" You announced.

"Please do" Jade said in return with his usual customer service smile.

You analyzed his face, his dimples, his nose, his lips and then his eyes. His hypnotizing beautiful eyes, those eyes that were filled with adoration-- It was too much for you.

"M-Most people close their eyes before getting kissed" You said, quickly looking away. You really really wanted to kiss Jade but you also really really wanted to hide under the covers.

"Ah, I see" Jade said nonchalantly and when you returned your gaze, you saw that he did in fact closed his eyes. You let out a deep breath.

You can do this, you can do this. . .

You leaned in slowly, cusping your hands around his face; though you told Jade to close his eyes, you didn't close yours-- you couldn't, how could you?

And then you finally did it, you kissed Jade Leech.

It was a light peck on the lips, soft. But it didn't stop the fact you have fireworks setting off in your head. You were freaking out, you were like a whistling tea kettle about to burst but you had to remain calm, you couldn't let Jade know that this effected you too much

"Hmm" Jade let out a curious hum, finally opening his eyes. His gloved hand reaching to his lips"It wasn't what I quite expected from the land movies I've watched"

And just like that you deflated like a balloon "W-Was it not up to your expectations?"

"No"

You were gonna cry.

"It was even better" Jade immediately added, you then realized he wasn't actually touching his lips.

He was actually trying to hide his blush

[demonslayerunhinged]

Unhinged yap/headcanon

What happened after?

In the context of SaneGiyuu, Sanemi's inferiority complex is really sad because as he's feelings for Giyuu develop and get stronger, there'll probably be that voice at the back of his head that says Giyuu wouldn't want to date someone like him.

Giyuu calling him beautiful must have hit him like a bus. He's used to people being afraid of him, calling him ugly or scary, so to have someone not only think he's worthy of attention but to call him beautiful???

Well....

Giyuu on the other hand struggles with his own esteem as well. He has to deal with depression over losing his sister and Sabito, his first love then, his imposter syndrome thinking that he's not worthy of being the water Hashira.

In his mind, he thinks that the second strongest Hashira wouldn't really think much of a guy like him. Sanemi is cool and badass, he says what's on his mind and isn't afraid of nobody, and Giyuu wishes he could be like that.

...

Giyuu wasn't sure what to think of the wind Hashira at first. They were tasked on a mission together along with a small group of junior slayers. Even though Sanemi had piqued his interest at his introductory meeting in the Master's mansion, right now he was much more focused on just getting the job done and going home.

The demons turned out to be a lot more than they initially thought and Giyuu was unsure that he would be able to fight and keep the junior slayers safe, but as he's cutting them down, he sees Sanemi rushing towards the hoard with a wide smile on his face.

"Come on! I'll take all of you bastards!"

Wind breathing, fourth form: Rising Dust Storm

This leaves the demons in shreds, drenching Sanemi in a shower of blood and guts.

Giyuu dealt with the rest of the hoard, and after he decapitated the last demon, Sanemi came up to him, his katana resting lazily on his shoulder. He had his usual grumpy look, but he said

"You're strong, that's good"

He then turned abruptly and went to check up on the civilians.

Giyuu stared after him for a minute before going to check in on the junior slayers and the civilians. Throughout the time, Sanemi's words were still ringing in his head.

You're strong, that's good

You're strong

They didn't go on any more missions after that, as their status as Hashira meant their had to head separate teams of juniors on missions. Giyuu tried to forget about Sanemi and his words since that day, but he couldn't.

Not seeing each other was good because it meant Giyuu was able to put away his feelings, he didn't know what to make of them. Why had the words stuck to him? What had his feelings meant?

At the next Hashira meeting, he watched as Sanemi sidled beside Rengoku with Obanai on his right, for a brief moment they locked eyes, and then Giyuu knew. He knew, he knew, he knew, he knew.

...

(This is the night after Giyuu called Sanemi beautiful. Muzan's visit to the Ubuyashiki mansion was delayed because his dry-cleaning got lost in the mail, idk)

Giyuu sat on the edge of the well, lost in thought, when he felt a slight rush of wind. He didn't have to look to know who it was on the other side of the well.

There was a brief moment of silence between them, Giyuu was the first to speak, he made an attempt to apologize

"Shinazugawa...I-"

"Did you mean what you said?" Sanemi's voice was gruff, but his words were a soft whisper.

His first instinct was to lie, but honestly he was exhausted. What did he have to lose?

"Yes"

There was silence again. This one stretched for so long, Giyuu for a silly moment thought that Sanemi had fallen asleep.

Then he heard the crunch of gravel as Sanemi stood up straight.

"The final set of trainees left for Gyomei's mansion this afternoon" he whispered

Giyuu eyebrows furrowed in confusion, he turned to the other side of the well. Sanemi's back was to him, Giyuu wanted to ask why he told him this but was cut off as Sanemi continued.

"The next set would be coming in tomorrow morning"

Then he was gone, leaving Giyuu in a state of confusion. What had Sanemi meant by that? What was he trying to say? He pondered for a moment, then a soft, sharp gasp left his lips as his eyes widened in realization.

Giyuu knew. He knew, he knew, he knew, he knew.

[hotchswifey]

insomnia - dean winchester x reader

(this is the first thing i have written in about 2 years 😭😭😭😭

it kinda sucks but i like it

warnings: insomnia (i am aware that any sleep disorders cannot be cured by another person and i do not mean to take away from people who suffer from these conditions, this was just a cute little idea i had), a little angst?? (just about how much deans life sucks.), fluff, cuddling, overthinking, thinking badly about yourself (ur thoughts can be mean but ur lovely and brilliant <3333)

also i have a hc that dean goes really silent when he's tired, except he can't go silent around most people bc then they start to think something is really wrong™, but actually he is just too exhausted to try to talk (self-projection? maybe.)

word count: 2373)

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

You rubbed at your tired eyes, walking into the bunker’s kitchen, your eyes adjusting to the light that definitely shouldn’t have been on - considering it was 3.32am. Your eyes fell on Dean, who was hunched over the island counter eating cereal. ‘Should’ve figured it was him who couldn’t sleep, too’, you thought. As bad as your sleeping habits had gotten, you always marvelled at Dean’s capability to be a functioning human with so little sleep.

He had noticed you as soon as you stepped foot in the room, but he did nothing to acknowledge your presence. Figures. You reasoned that the poor guy’s probably slept twice in the last week. You didn’t address him either; whether it was sleep deprivation or knowing he wanted to be left alone, you didn’t know. You just went to grab yourself a bowl of cereal. 

It was quiet (except for the sound of pouring milk and Dean’s chewing), but it was comfortable. It gave you some peace knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t sleep - something so simple yet far out of your reach. You didn’t know when it happened (your inability to sleep), but ‘it comes with the life,’ you supposed. You grabbed your bowl and left Dean to ponder on his own.

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

You rubbed at your tired eyes again. The same routine - lay in bed for hours, eventually get up because you’re hungry, head to the kitchen and find the light on. Again and again, this happened - Dean always sat there. It had become a funny thing kind of (in an unhealthy, oh-my-god-i-just-want-to-sleep-but-i-guess-it’s-nice-to-see-dean type of way). 

He didn’t acknowledge you, you didn’t acknowledge him, you poured your cereal to the sound of Dean chewing and went back to your room to eat. You wished he would invite you to sit down, even if you both ate silently. It was nice not to be alone at night, overthinking every gruesome and terrible thing to come. But you knew it was Dean, and he definitely needed some peace, quiet, and alone time (and this was the most alone time he willingly gave himself). 

You ate back in your room, not sleeping for yet another night.

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

You and the boys had just got back from a vamp hunt. Sore, tired and, frankly, pissed off. The hunt was fine, you all supposed. But, god, it takes a lot to completely decapitate somebody. Your energy was all drained, and the only thing you wanted to do was sleep - but could you? No. Of course, you couldn’t. Why? A thunderstorm? Fireworks? Gunshots? No. Because your brain hates you. God forbid you get an ounce of sleep.

Your routine ensued again, more sluggish this time and certainly more pissed. All you wanted to do was behead a few vamps and sleep it off, but no. Of course not. Try to sleep, fail to sleep, get up and haul your ass to the kitchen, pour cereal, eat cereal. How did your life become so dull?

The lights are on again. You think, ‘There is no way in all hell Dean is awake. That boy put himself through more physical torment you could ever even dream of (not that you’d want to)’. You weren’t too shocked when, even after today, you saw Dean sitting there.

It wasn’t a surprise that Dean Winchester (saviour of the world, the perfect killer) was still awake, even after killing eight vamps single-handedly (but from how he was sitting, you were sure he’d hurt his back on the hunt). Dean. Again. In the kitchen. Not sleeping.

You didn’t know why, but it pissed you off more than it should have. 

“Why are you still up?” You asked, walking past the island to the cereal cupboard. No response. Of course. You rolled your eyes, fishing out the box of lucky charms you reserved for awful days. You caught Dean’s eye as you turned around to get a bowl. 

He might’ve been the strongest man you knew physically and mentally, but he looked so tired. More tired than you had ever seen him. More tired now than after ending the apocalypse or returning from purgatory. How could he look so exhausted after one vamp hunt? You thought about it for a second, only now realising how many times you had gotten up and he had been in the kitchen. Every time you got up, he was in the kitchen. What are the chances that when you can’t sleep, neither can he? Or was it more likely he wasn’t sleeping at all?

If you were being truthful, the strongest man you knew looked like hell. He looked like a little boy who couldn’t sleep because he had a nightmare and wanted his mom. Except he wasn’t a little boy, he was living through the nightmare and had no one to turn to when things got bad.

You had felt pity for Dean before (how could you not, the man has quite literally been to hell and back), but this was a different kind of pity. This was the kind of pity that only came when things were terrible. When you realise this was how it had to be, how it would be, forever. The kind of pity that came when you realised you couldn’t do anything about it. You felt useless looking at him in his dressing gown, hunched over the counter.

He was the world’s saviour, and you had to assume that came with consequences - like not sleeping.

You didn’t say anything. Your anger had dissipated into sadness - sadness for being unable to help your friend. There was nothing you could say or do. There was nothing at all. You stared at him, and he stared back, and that was it. You went about your night - pour the cereal, return to your room, and not sleep.

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

Another day. Another hunt. Another sleepless night.

You considered buying the strongest sleeping pills and calling it a day. But you knew you couldn’t. Dean would haul your ass out for another hunt tomorrow, and he’d be pissed if you were fast asleep.

‘He should take some sleeping pills’, you thought. Maybe he would actually be remotely okay then.

Not fall asleep, get up, walk to the kitchen, see Dean, not acknowledge each other, get your cereal and leave. Again and again. You may have liked it, though. Just that little bit of routine in your hectic lives. Even if it was a bad routine.

You poured your cereal, your back to Dean, in complete silence. It was nice. Comfortable.

You picked up your spoon, ready to head back to bed, and turned around to find Dean already looking at you. You paused on the spot, unsure as to why he was staring. He didn’t stop when you noticed him. He looked as tired as ever. The sight of him, looking exhausted, with a bowl of cereal and beer, was heartbreaking. It physically hurts to look at.

He looked at you, and you looked back. Silent. Again. You wish you knew what to say, but what could you say? ‘Hey, Dean. You look like shit.’ You were sure you looked just as bad.

The sudden eye contact didn’t end. You both are not blinking, not moving, simply just looking. It was like you were communicating telepathically, just understanding each other and the hell you were both going through. This life was bad enough with sleep.

He didn’t say anything when you moved to sit down next to him, he didn’t say anything when you began to eat your (soggy) cereal, and he didn’t say anything when you finished eating. He just drank his beer and ate his cereal wordlessly. He said nothing when you sat there for 5… 10… 15… 20 minutes. Not one word.

You wanted to know what was going on in his head so badly. You wanted to know how you could help if you could help. But Dean doesn’t share his problems. You knew that, Sam knew that Cas knew that- everybody in the damn world knew that.

You sat and sat and sat silently. Half an hour passed, then an hour, then two… before you knew it, Sam was walking in- tired and grumpy. The sun had risen (not that you could see it), and a new day had started.

“You look like shit, dude”, Dean said to Sam, who promptly rolled his eyes.

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

This time, when you couldn’t sleep, you didn’t go to the kitchen. You just laid there. Unmoving. You’re sleep-deprived mind was overthinking everything- what if you fucked up on that hunt 3 years ago, and Sam and Dean still hate you to this day? What if Sam hates you? What if Dean hates you? What if Dean is so fucking sick of you interrupting his nightly cereal time? You were a victim of your mind- your thoughts and inability to sleep. 

Ugh. You were so hungry. But, right now, your brain was convincing you you were single-handedly Dean’s biggest annoyance right now (if Dean could read your thoughts right now, he would be calling you his biggest idiot).

A knock on your door startled you more than it should’ve (considering you had been hunting for quite a while at this point).

A knock. At (you looked over to your alarm clock) 3:34am. ‘Why is Sam awake at this time? Why’s he knocking on my door?’ you thought. ‘It can’t be Dean. I’ve done nothing but piss him off for the last month. You squint your eyes preemptively as you reach over to turn on the lamp by your bed and get up. The floor was cold under your feet, and your body was exhausted from the lack of sleep. You reached towards the doorknob, preparing to see Sam. 

Sam. Who was definitely not at the door. Because Dean was standing there, in boxers and a white t-shirt, holding 2 bowls of cereal, looking as tired as you felt. Huh.

He looked at you silently, extending one bowl towards yourself. You took it hesitantly, staring at him, confused. He didn’t react. He didn’t say a word. Just lifted his bowl to eat his cereal. You moved to give Dean the option to come in. It was like a silent agreement had happened between you. Cereal and silence.

He walked in and sat on your bed; you closed your door and joined him. Wordless. Silent.

Maybe, you weren’t annoying him. Perhaps, he enjoyed this as much as you did. Maybe. Maybe.

Ten minutes passed, and you finished your cereal and leaned over to put it on the mahogany desk. ‘The Men of Letters enjoyed a frivolous life, huh. Who needs a mahogany desk?’ You thought, trying to distract yourself from your overactive mind. Dean moved over to do the same, leaning into you whilst he did. 

He didn’t seem to lean away from you after that. He didn’t seem to move at all. He just sat close as you both stared at the wall, unblinking. God, you were tired. You just wanted to sleep. You felt like your body was going to shut down any day now.

“You should get some sleep,” Dean’s groggy voice came out of nowhere. It surprised you, him actually talking. 

“Yeah, I’m trying,” you replied. Hell, you were trying. You were trying so hard, you just needed to-. Dean moved before you could finish your thought, standing up and moving to the top of the bed, pulling back the dishevelled sheets. He laid down in the bed, propping his head onto his hands.

“Are you just going to stand there?”

You moved to join him in the tiny twin bed. He pulled back the covers to let you in. You weren’t too sure what to do with yourself, then. You sat there with your knees to your chin, shoulders hunched. He had invited himself into your bed, and you felt like you were invading HIS space. Why were you still overthinking this? Why were you still thinking he didn’t want you here? Obviously, he did! 

His arm wrapped around your shoulders before you could think anymore. You looked over at him, his green eyes reflective in the lamplight, and he looked back at you. Wordless. You gave him a small smile and moved to lie down. He joined you, his arm still wrapped around your shoulder. You debated whether you should lean against his chest but decided not to overthink it and just do it. You were sick of overthinking every little thing.

His other arm wrapped around your waist, yours wrapped around his. This was good. He was good. Nothing was exchanged between you; there wasn’t a need for words. You both knew this was what you two needed- each other. Dean had never really been alone (whether it was Sam, Cas, or Benny), and he needed somebody there to remind him that everything was okay. You were okay- sleep-deprived and needing a new career, but okay. 

Your eyes were shutting before you could help it. Dean’s steady heartbeat in your ear and arms around your body calmed you. It was almost funny how quickly you were falling asleep now. Months and months of sleepless nights, and all it took was Dean to be here, holding you. You wished you could enjoy it more (not knowing if this would happen again), but you were so goddamn tired. 

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

You awoke the following day to repeated knocks on your door and Sam’s voice shouting your name. Damnit Sam. He opened your door before you even had the chance to fully wake up.

“Have you seen Dea- oh.”

The man in question was fast asleep, his arms still wrapped around you, your legs tangled together. You looked towards Sam as he mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ and left hurriedly. You were surprised it didn’t wake Dean. A pin drop could wake him up. You looked over at him, admiring how peaceful he looked. It was simple. Simple and nice and sort of domestic. Or as domestic as a hunter’s life can be.

You leaned against his chest, his arms tightening around you, falling back asleep.

You two had a different routine from then on- if either couldn’t sleep, you would find each other.