#the way 'light' hits differently in this verse ;-;

[stingslikeabee]

@strongfuck

on light

euripides grief lesson: four plays by euripides (tr. anne carson) (via @weltenwellen​) \ virginina woolf the waves \ maggie nelson bluets

buy my daily chai latte

[jaylalolz]

ROCKSTAR!nicholas x FAN!reader 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

SUMMARY, in the crowd, Nicholas spots a girl and can’t take his mind off of her. he invites her to the back when the show is over.

A/N, thank you all for the support, angels!! have fun reading🪽

WARNINGS, smuttyyyy

The lights were dimmed just enough to cast a seductive haze over the room, while the pulsing energy of the crowd throbbed in sync with the music. Nicholas stood at the center of the stage, his guitar slung low across his body, microphone in hand, as he belted out the final verse of the song. The sweat on his brow shimmered under the spotlights, his voice raw and electric, sending waves through the tightly packed audience.

But despite the roaring energy of the crowd, Nicholas's focus had narrowed down to one girl standing near the front, her wide eyes fixed on him. From the moment he'd stepped on stage, he’d noticed her—a striking beauty, lost in the music, swaying with the rhythm like she belonged in the heat of the moment. Their eyes met, and Nicholas couldn’t look away. He liked the way she held his gaze, unblinking, as if she were daring him to come closer.

Throughout the set, he made a point to lock eyes with her, teasing her with subtle winks as he growled the lyrics into the mic. Each time, he saw her blush slightly, a coy smile tugging at her lips as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He could feel the magnetic pull between them, a silent promise written in the glances they exchanged. Nicholas had felt the rush of a live show a thousand times before, but tonight, the game was different. The girl had him hooked.

As the song reached its climax, Nicholas stepped back from the mic, his chest heaving, the applause deafening. With a sly grin, he grabbed a cigarette from his pocket, slid it between his lips, and flicked the lighter open. The flame danced for a moment before igniting the end of the cigarette. He took a long, slow drag, exhaling the smoke in a way that seemed designed to draw her attention even more. His eyes never left hers.

Bending forward, he hopped down from the stage in one smooth motion, the cigarette dangling from his fingers. The crowd parted slightly, curious but not interfering, as Nicholas made his way toward her, his presence commanding the room. When he reached the girl, he leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear, the scent of smoke and sweat swirling around them.

"Meet me in the back when the show’s over," he whispered, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down her spine.

He pressed the cigarette into her mouth, his fingers brushing against lips for a brief second. she then blows the smoke into his face. She could feel the heat radiating off him, her heart skipping a beat as his lips barely grazed the shell of her ear. Before she could react, he pulled away, winking at her once more with that signature smirk, before turning back toward the stage, leaving her standing there breathless, cigarette in hand, her pulse racing as she watched him walk away.

The rest of the set felt like a blur, but every time she looked up, there he was—his eyes finding her again, that same dangerous gleam in his gaze. The music hit harder, the lights flashed brighter, but the only thing she could focus on was the promise of what was waiting for her once the show was over.

Nicholas knew she’d come. He could see it in the way she held onto the cigarette like it was something sacred, her cheeks flushed, her breath uneven. The game had been set, and the night was only just beginning.

────୨ৎ────

rusning the door open, she stepped into the dimly lit hallway. The noise from the stage area grew fainter as she walked deeper into the back, the scent of sweat, smoke, and something intoxicating filling the narrow space. A few crew members passed by, giving her quick glances but saying nothing. It felt like time had slowed, the air thick with tension.

Then she saw him.

Nicholas stood leaning casually against the wall, his leather jacket hanging off his shoulders, one boot propped against the brick, a cigarette once again dangling between his lips. He looked up as soon as she appeared, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face. He looked exactly like he had on stage-dangerous, confident, and every bit the rockstar.

"You came," he said, his voice low and gravelly as he pushed off the wall and moved toward her.

Her breath caught in her throat as he approached, his eyes locked on hers like she was the only thing in the room.

When he stopped in front of her, he plucked the cigarette from her fingers, taking a slow drag before flicking it to the side. The heat from his body was close now, intoxicating, and she felt her pulse quicken as he reached up to brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"You kept it," he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he tilted his head, his lips just inches from hers.

"Good girl."

She swallowed hard, her heart hammering against her ribcage as his fingers grazed the side of her face, sending waves of warmth through her skin. The dim lighting made his features even sharper, his eyes dark with something that made her knees feel weak. She could hardly breathe.

Without another word, Nicholas leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear in a whisper. "I've been thinking about you all night."

Her body reacted before her mind could catch up. The thrill of his closeness, the heat of his breath against her skin-it was too much. She turned her head slightly, her lips just barely grazing his, and that was all the invitation he needed.

In an instant, he closed the space between them, his mouth crashing against hers in a kiss that was hungry, reckless, and full of everything they hadn't said. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing hers back against the cool wall. The contrast of the hard brick and his warm, demanding touch sent her head spinning.

The kiss was wild, unrestrained.

When they finally broke apart, both breathless, Nicholas's lips curled into that signature smirk of his. He ran a thumb along her swollen bottom lip, his voice low and dangerous as he spoke.

"Let's see if you can keep up."

In a dimly lit room, she found herself on top of him in a couch.

Nicholas wasn't holding back, and neither was she. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, and when she opened her mouth for him, the taste of smoke and desire mingled, setting her senses on fire. His hands roamed her body, exploring her curves with a confidence that sent shivers down her spine.

They both pant for dear life as he unzips his pants. “Tell me you want this” he says.

“I want it”

He bunches up her clothes with one hand and grips his dick with the other. He places his tip against her, keeping his gaze fixed on the touch. Feeling him drive into her was a moment of joy, she holds the side of his neck and lowers herself slowly. She sinks as far as she can, her lungs whimpering; he clenches his teeth and takes both her hips with brutality. She throws her head back as his tongue grazes her throat and her hips begin a steady, grinding bounce. They both groan quietly. She desperately rocks her body and grabs the back of his head.

"Fuck…just like that." His hands gripping her ass and supporting her as she rocks, he pants into her jaw. Breathing near his ear, he roughly tugged at the hair at the back of her head. Ecstatic nerves tingle through her body.

With a weak jaw, she pulls away from his side and stares down at him. He grips her face to keep her staring down at him. His gaze lingers on her features, noting her growing vulnerability.

A arrogant grin slides down his mouth. "You should see how pretty you are right now..." He kisses on her cheekbones while exhaling deeply. "Desperately riding me in slutty dress,"

Her hands move down his chest, causing his gaze to flicker before focusing on his pronounced abs. He scowls, gritting his teeth, and tosses his head back in a grunt. She tightened her hold on his sides and gazed down at his well sculpted body. His appearance is surreal.

they groan and pant at one another. Despite the hurry of it all, their bodies function flawlessly together in the middle of this chaos. "Fuck, Nicholas I'm going to," she says as she grinds her hips once more and grabs his bare side and back of his neck. "Yeah?" Breathing out, he looks up at her and asks, "You're gonna cum this quick?"

As her orgasm consumes her, she almost lets out a pleasurable shout. She violently rocks her hips, feeling the thick build suffocate her until she lets out a harsh breath. She breaks eye contact and gets up from his lap, flipping her panties back and settling into the chair across from him. Refitting his boxers, he slides his hips up to button his formal pants and tucks his shirt back in.

“Here is my number, sweetheart. Call me anytime”

[yanderefarm]

yandere cultist but its omegaverse

cw; religion, cults, yandere themes, omegaverse

ill post the introduction for him later too. ive had this idea for a minute i thought it was fun. u always see yandere cult leaders wheres the yandere followers who act the way they do because they're following what they were told. wheres the yandere cultists who have been convinced that you're their chosen soulmate and will do anything to prove it to you.

also i got the dominant thing from a yaoi manhwa i dropped i don't remember what it was called but im sure this trope isn't original to the verse i just put my own spin on it

you're what's called a "dominant" alpha, it's not anything to do with your role in the bedroom and more the strength of your traits. rut inhibitors and scent blockers have no effect on you while you struggle with interest in typical omegas. but because of the rarity of the condition it wasn't often taught about in schools. trying to find a "dominant" omega on normal dating apps was practically impossible.

that's why you turned to more conservative dating apps. less likely to find people who thought dominant omegas meant strap ons and muzzles and more likely to find people who thought the term dominant omega was a sin. while you don't agree with them an omega is a whole lot easier to reason with.

thats how you met him. he was a beautiful boy with long blue hair and lovely floral dresses. all his pictures were either clearly church pictures or candid shots of him working on a farm. all you really needed to see was the marked off dominant omega trait at this point but him being a cutie was a bonus.

you checked to make sure he was what he said he was and then you two hit it off immediately. he was shy but he used the cutest emojis, lots of hearts and sparkles. you found yourself talking to him every second of every day, completely enamored by the sweetheart he was.

so when you asked if you could finally go on a date in person you were surprised to find your stark differences reared their head. you had to meet his dad before you could go on a date. sure. he's made it no secret that he's a sheltered religious boy. the comment he also added about ensuring his purity was intact was unneeded but you could get past it. he's a good person.

he's a good person who happens to live in the same Happy Homes compound you had just watched a video essay about. you were surprised... and horrified. still as creepy as the place was you were too attached to him at this point to just abandon him here. if he couldn't be convinced to leave that's one thing but you hadn't even tried yet.

his family was warm and welcoming, a few uncomfortable comments and his eldest brother wouldn't stop glaring at you but that's not unique to them. it was a relatively normal farm house surrounded by identical farm houses. what could go wrong?

you had dinner with them and they even invited you to church with them. you knew you weren't about to be convinced to join the cult so you agreed. his father let you borrow some nice clothes and you ended up taking your boyfriend, his mother, and one of his sisters in your car.

the sermon was. boring. nothing uniquely offensive that you wouldn't find in any conservative religious church. the surprising part came with the announcements. the pastor, a beta dressed in white ushered your boyfriend and 4 other omegas onto the stage.

he talked about a plan, a calling each of them had from god. they were each supposed to bring wayward alphas to the church to join them in the house of god. yeah, you could get the gist and before you could even try to stand up one of the other boyfriends did so. he was talking about how this was bullshit and he didn't buy into this crazy crap. and then he collapsed. you watched as 2 others joined him in either death or unconsciousness.

the pastor ushered you onto the stage and your boyfriend's brother dragged you up by the arms. your heart was pounding in your ears and the lights above were glaringly bright. you barely noticed when your boyfriend's arms wrapped around your own.

"and you too shall enter the happiest homes. may god bless you."

you felt your mind go numb and the next thing you knew you were on the floor.

[whiteferraristurns]

𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ⚠︎︎ none. no use y/n. fluff

Bri ༯ rapper chris!!👅

reblogs, likes and comments are heavily appreciated ᥫ᭡

Late Night in the Studio

The hum of the city faded into the background as you entered the studio, a small black bag clutched in your hand. The dim, moody lights cast a soft glow over the walls lined with platinum records, awards, and Chris's signature graffiti art—raw, messy, undeniably his. The faint scent of sandalwood and vanilla drifted from the candles flickering on the windowsill, the only soft contrast to the electric energy in the room. The space felt familiar, yet every time you entered, the charged energy made you feel like you were stepping into another world.

It was late—later than you would have preferred to be out on a Thursday night—but Chris had insisted, and you couldn’t deny the pull his voice held over you. You were used to the chaos that came with his life, the late-night calls and the constant tug-of-war between your schedules. But something about tonight felt different.

You leaned against the doorway watching how the pink lights lit up his features perfectly. “You look like you’re thinking hard over there,” Chris turned, adjusting his headphones before pulling them down to hang around his neck. He shot you that lazy grin that always made you feel like you were the only person in the room. 

“Just wondering why you’ve got me out here at midnight,” you teased, your  lips pulling up into a smile. “Don’t you ever sleep?” Chris shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets with that lazy, too-cool look he always wore. “Can’t sleep when I’ve got inspiration running through me. You should know that by now.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a seat on the leather couch that stretched against the wall. It was worn and cracked, but you’d spent enough time here that it almost felt like home. “So I’m here to be your muse?” You arched an eyebrow, teasing, but deep down, you couldn’t deny the warmth his words brought.

Chris didn’t answer right away. Instead, his fingers ran over the soundboard, tweaking a few settings as he let the beat play softly in the background. He shot you a glance over his shoulder, his eyes dark and serious. “Actually, yeah. This one’s got your name all over it.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and full of meaning. Your heart skipped, but you tried to play it cool, tilting your head with a small smile. “You really expect me to believe you wrote a whole song about me?”

He nodded, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes. “It’s wouldn't be the first one”

Your mouth went dry. You knew he poured his life into his music, but the idea that he’d written about you was something else. You glanced away, biting your lip to hide the mix of emotions swirling inside you. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“Don’t say anything,” he murmured, leaning against the soundboard as he met your gaze. “Just… listen.” Chris hit play, and the room filled with a steady, soulful beat, layered with smooth guitar riffs that softened the intensity of the bassline. Then his voice cut through, raw and honest, each line hitting like a confession.

“She’s the pulse that keeps me steady, when the world’s too loud to bear. She’s the reason why I’m breathing, even when there’s smoke in the air.”

The lyrics rolled over you, each word hitting deeper than you’d expected. You breath caught as you heard the pain, the longing, the way he seemed to reach for you through every line. It wasn’t just a song. It was a part of him—a part of your bond. You listened, your hand messing the necklace he had gotten you for your birthday. As his voice continued, weaving a story of nights you’d spent together, of whispered words in dim rooms, of a connection that neither of you knew how to define.

“She’s the storm that keeps me grounded, the spark behind every verse,” he rapped, his voice deep and resonant, each word laced with something you couldn’t quite name. “When I’m lost in this world, she pulls me down to earth.”

The track finally faded into silence, you blinked, realizing your eyes were damp. You hadn’t even noticed the tears pooling, too wrapped up in the emotion of it all.

“Chris…” you started, but words failed you. How could you tell him that you felt it too, that every time he left for another city or hit the stage, you were there with him, a part of your  heart stitched into every lyric?

He crossed the room, sitting beside you on the couch, his knee brushing against yours. The air between you both was thick with things unsaid, but his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

“It’s not easy, you know?” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. “Balancing all this. Sometimes, I don’t know how much longer I can keep pulling you into this world.”

You swallowed, feeling the weight of his words sink in. You’d always known that dating Chris meant sacrifice, meant that your time was often borrowed and fleeting. But the thought of letting him go was harder than you wanted to admit.

“You’re not pulling me anywhere, Chris,” you whispered back, your hand reaching out to brush his. “I’m here because I want to be.”

For a moment, he looked away, his jaw tight. You knew that look—he wore it when he was fighting back something deeper, something vulnerable. You reached out, your hand resting on his, grounding him. Slowly, he turned back to you, his fingers threading through yours.

“What if it’s too much?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse. “What if… I’m too much?”

You shook her head, squeezing his hand. “You could never be too much, Chris. You’re just… everything.”

Your words hung in the air, soft and steady, the truth of them lingering between you. And in that moment, you felt like you were finally laying your cards on the table, every piece of your heart exposed. You leaned forward, closing the gap between you two, your lips brushing his in a gentle, tender kiss that held everything you couldn’t put into words.

When you pulled away, he held you close, his forehead resting against yours, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you stayed like that, just breathing, just existing in the same space.

“I don’t know where this is going,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “but I want to figure it out with you.”

You nodded, feeling the truth of his words settle in her heart. “We’ll figure it out, one verse at a time.”

And as you sat together in the dim studio, surrounded by his music, you knew that whatever happened, you’d face it together—through the highs, the lows, and everything in between. Because no matter what, you had each other, and that was enough.

Bri ༯ short n’ sweet. please tell how this was I lowk hate it😭

more fic’s will be out soon I just thought I’d post this one now since it’s been sitting in my drafts since the day after the video

T͙A͙G͙L͙I͙S͙T͙ ᡣ𐭩

@sturniqloo @iillovechris @themotherofmattschildren @chrislilcumslvt @ghostlyplug @mattsfavginger @chrissturnioloenthusiastforlife @ncm9696 @starfuckoff @heartz4matt

[jjunieworld]

stupid cupid! ` . ᡣ𐭩 ་ જ⁀➴

pairing: huening kai x gn!reader

genre: fluff-y mainly, cupid!hueningkai, sort of psyche!reader, blonde!kai, strangers to lovers, love at first sight(?), yearning to the max, kinda mythology au? (references to gods & myths), both y/n and kai’s pov are shown

synopsis: hueningkai, better known as cupid, is known for his art in helping people fall in love. shooting his arrows here and there, getting those who are meant to be together. what happens when after he shoots one of his love arrows at you, the other one somehow ends up hitting him?

word count: 6.5k┊v-day event masterlist┊masterlist

a/n: last and final part of my v-day event! happy valentine’s day!! kai’s look and outfit is heavily based on his look and outfit from the freeze concept photos (above)! lowkey this made me wanna get into more mythology aus, maybe even delve more deeper into cupid!kai and psyche!reader… who knows! i hope you enjoy! ♡

valentine’s day was always a good day for hueningkai. it was when he really got to shine at what he did. hueningkai liked to people watch, liked to see just what makes two mortals fall for each other. yes, he was well versed in all things love—thanks to his mother, but he’s never actually experienced it before.

inhaling deeply, hueningkai steadied his bow and aimed towards the boy a couple yards from him, his large ivory wings flaring out behind him. he shifted slightly from high up on his perch as he aimed for the boy’s heart, light pink arrowhead beaming brightly in the early morning sunlight. time slowed as hueningkai exhaled, no sound, no movement, nothing. all at once everything flew back into motion as the bowstring flung past his limp fingertips, the silver arrow shooting through the boy’s heart and unrequited love consuming him.

hueningkai pulled out another shaft from his quiver at his hip, this one with a blunt tip made of lead. he aimed it at the girl beside the boy and fired it, aversion filling her body as the two of them looked at each other. hueningkai lowered his bow as he watched the mortals, intrigued. his wings tucked themselves into his back behind him.

as the boy professed his love for the girl, as they always do, the girl’s face fell more and more. a polite smile formed on her mouth and she pushed the extended card back towards the boy. hueningkai watched her lips, her mouth forming: “i’m sorry, but i just don’t feel that way about you.” he then watched as the boy’s shoulders dropped and he turned to walk away. hueningkai hummed. how curious, he thought.

flying over the crowd of people, the eye that wasn’t covered by his pink heart-shaped eyepatch was focused on the sky ahead of him. hueningkai lifted the eyepatch, closing his eyes briefly as he landed to adjust to the sudden difference in vision. when he opened them again, wings coming to lay flat at his back, they landed on you a few feet in front.

pulling out a golden arrow of uncontrollable desire, hueningkai aims it straight at your heart. hueningkai felt his own beating heart in his chest as he steadied his slightly shaking fingers, staring at the slightly transparent pink halo that’s around your body. you were quite beautiful, and that was saying something coming from him. releasing the arrow and watching it pierce through you, he looks around for your matching halo but sees no one. hueningkai furrows his eyebrows. how odd, this has never happened before, he thinks.

hueningkai moved to put his bow over his shoulders when the heart-shaped tip of one of his golden arrows grazed his skin, scratching him. thinking nothing of it, he moved to continue on his way. he is very busy today, and he still had to shoot his arrows into a plethora of other people. surely his own arrows of desire couldn’t affect the god of desire?

he gave one last look at you as he pulled his eyepatch back down. suddenly, hueningkai felt as if his heart was physically trying to leap out his chest and he reeled backwards from the feeling, wings enveloping him as he squeezed his eyes shut.

what the hell? he thought. what is this feeling? shaking his head slightly, he looked back up at you just as you looked up from the paper you were scribbling away on. your eyes widened and eyebrows had knitted together as you seemingly saw him.

that was impossible, hueningkai should’ve been invisible to the human eye! taking flight, hueningkai flew high into the clouds at a rapid speed. today was already off to a rough start and the day had barely begun.

you felt like there were a heavy set of eyes on you, burning a hole right through your body and to your very soul. looking up from your sketchbook, you locked eyes with what you could only describe as an angel. you couldn’t see much of him, his body and face mainly being covered with wings as white as snow, but you saw his dark eyes and his fair hair.

his eyes pierced through you with such intensity, it caused your heart to pick up in speed and your breath to hitch. both of his eyes were brown, but the right one had a ring of dark pink bleeding into the iris. they were shadowed with a deep pink and you saw what looked like an eyepatch above the strange looking right eye. light blonde hair fell messily over his forehead. who was he, this man—this creature? what was he? was he even a he?

furrowing your brows, you didn’t have the chance to answer before the winged creature took to the sky. you looked around you as confusion seeped into you. nobody else seemed to have seen a thing. not even the fallen winter leaves seemed ruffled by the wind of it’s wings.

at first, you thought maybe a prank was being played on you, but the more and more you looked around and saw nobody reacting to what you just saw, you began to think against it. maybe it was your mind playing a trick on you from your lack of sleep? running a hand over your face and sighing lightly, you gathered your sketchbook and your supplies and threw on your black jacket as you headed home.

that night, the creature wouldn’t leave your mind. his tormented eyes and the light against his hair haunted you all the way to your dreams.

in your dream, you were in a vast, intricately decorated palace. golden columns, carved ceilings of ivory, and walls full of wild animals beckoned you forward on the jeweled mosaic floor. in the distance you can hear piano playing softly, so you decide to follow it through the empty corridors.

you walked into a large open room with a single, long table in the center. there was only one chair, at the head closest to the entrance. half of the room was lit up by candlelight, the other half was basked in darkness. the strangeness of it all halted you, made your pulse quicken. it didn’t help that you could feel someone from the shadows watching you intently from the other side of the table, could barely see the outline of their silhouette.

“take a seat, my darling,” a honeyed voice said. something didn’t seem right about it. it sounded almost twisted at the corners; unreal and slightly disembodied. slowly, you made your way to the only seat available, confused eyes and knitted brows looking around the room. at the blink of your eyes, there was suddenly a feast in front of you. the plate just in front of you was almost filled to the brim with various types of dishes and there was a goblet with a candelabra next to it filled with who knows what. “don’t be shy, fill your needs. and then fill them more,” the voice spoke softly.

you leaned away from the table slightly, not a lot to cause suspicion or alert whoever was across from you. you didn’t think that mattered, though, because the gaze on you was already piercing. somehow, you felt like you knew it was that creature you saw earlier who was now hiding in the darkness.

a softly humming voice joined in with the piano and it sent a shiver down your spine from how beautiful it sounded. “are you a man, or an angel?” you asked the darkness, scared of the answer. a slight chuckle followed, “i am neither.” with narrowed eyes, you hope you were staring the creature directly into its eyes.

“so what are you then?” you asked, courage filling you. silence hangs in the air thickly and you feel the courage you built up slipping. after what felt like forever, the voice replied, “i am the son of love, i am desire.” you could practically hear the smile on the creature’s lips. before you could respond, ask the creature what he means, you felt yourself begin to fade. the edges of your vision was getting hazy and the details of the room were becoming blurred.

almost feverishly, you wake up in your room to sketches absolutely everywhere. your room looked like someone flung papers all over the place. in front of you was a canvas, the portrait of the creature the morning you saw him on it. looking down, your hands were absolutely covered in various shades of paint. there was paint on your arms and looking in the mirror hanging on your wall, there was paint all over your face and in your hair as well.

you turned to see the scattered sketches. his eyes were looking back at you everywhere; the slight wave of his light hair. over and over and over again. what is happening? you wondered. what is this… thing? and why couldn’t you stop thinking about him, this son of love, this desire?

pulling your laptop open, you began to search the large ocean of information on the internet. you just had to know.

hueningkai shook with the need to soar through the sky. to find out why he is so drawn to this mortal human and why. and how. he could barely carry out his tasks of bringing people together when all he was thinking about was being with you. it was driving him absolutely insane. driving him completely insane not following the call of heart to you.

how stupid he was to visit your dream, it just made everything worse. hueningkai didn’t understand, his arrows shouldn’t affect him. right? he thought back to the moment he drew his arrow at you, the moment he aimed straight for your heart.

the way his own heart picked up in beat, the slight shake of his fingers. this was so unlike anything he’s ever known, ever witnessed. hueningkai needed to see you again.

ripping his eyepatch off, hueningkai scanned his surroundings, letting his bow and arrow go limp in his other hand. that’s when something caught his eye. there was a slightly transparent pink halo around him. hueningkai’s eyes widened in shock. it was the same halo that was around you when he shot his arrow.

his eye gave him the ability to see which people connected and which ones didn’t, see the red string between them. hueningkai didn’t need to use that power of his often, only on days—such as valentine’s day—when things are particularly hectic. holding up the hand with his eyepatch dangling from it, hueningkai stared down at his open hand; stared down at the string of red tied at his pinky. he stared at how the string—more like a ribbon—spread ahead of him forwards.

could the god of desire—the god of attraction, god of affection… fall in love? be in love? even experience love? at least in the way that these humans he loved to watch do? was it possible? hueningkai was afraid to let himself hope, let himself wonder, but he just had to know.

following the red ribbon, hueningkai made his way towards you. this time, he watched from the shadows casted by the cloudy morning sky as you scurried around the inside of a library, tugging the ribbon in every direction you went. hueningkai watched on curiously, he wanted so badly to get closer to you, but he knew better than to show his face.

he knew better than to see as your eyes fog over as you saw what everyone else saw, the thing you most desired. the person who you wanted him to be, to look as. he knew better than to break his own heart. you would never see hueningkai as himself.

but he just had to get to know you. even without the red string of fate tying you together, without hueningkai’s arrows, you still piqued his interest. your beauty was unmatched, and the more he watched you through the library window, the more he was curious about your personality as well. hueningkai decided that he would meet you again in person, not face to face, but as close as he can get.

hueningkai decided that instead of beating around the bush like he did in your dream, that he would answer your questions, and even ask some of his own. maybe the two of you could get to know each other? i mean, it’s only a matter of time.

you couldn’t focus on the book you were reading. the quiet, relatively empty, library was too loud—too bustling. you couldn’t focus with all the thoughts of him running rampid in your mind. it also didn’t help that you felt eyes on you again—his eyes. you knew that somewhere, he was watching you.

if you were honest, you couldn’t say you hated the attention. at least, not from him. it was strange, you weren’t one to want to be the center of attention, but you found yourself wanting to be the center of his attention. his eyes on you almost felt… comforting? refreshing? like a warm blanket on a cold day; a sip of ice cold water on a hot one.

it also helped that you now knew his true name; cupid. or that’s what your books and the internet say anyways. to you, he didn’t look like some baby with wings waving a bow and arrow around. you didn’t even see a bow and arrow, not that you saw much of him at all because of his large wings. but knowing his true name had to mean something, right?

you wanted to meet him again, see him again. it was as if you craved it. as if you’ve been waiting all your life for it and now that you’ve had a taste you’re ravished. but you didn’t know how to see him again, or if you even could for that matter. you assumed that your next meeting—and probably future ones, as well—were entirely up to him.

looking up at your spot from the wide desk, you stared out into the open library window. stared into the shadows where you saw absolutely nothing, but felt his presence. you lifted your head up high and dared to do what one should never do.

“cupid,” you mouthed, eyes staring intently into the dark. you could practically feel his smile. it was like a tingle up your spine. you could feel your heart pick up pace as his gaze burned into yours, even without seeing him.

putting your head in your hand as you leaned on the desk, you tried to act unbothered but it felt like every cell in your body has electrified, every individual hair standing up on end. then, the heaviness of his gaze had suddenly disappeared and you knew that he was gone.

slumping onto the desk, you inhaled deeply. could it be true? you were being haunted by the cupid, god of desire? you? this all felt unreal, and if you hadn’t had as many encounters with cupid himself that you’ve had thus far, you would’ve written it off. there’s a part of you that still wants to.

every interaction felt loaded. his honeyed voice still rang in the back of your mind, even with how distorted he no doubt made it. every interaction made you want more of him—need more of him. you had to see him. jesus, it’s only been a day and you felt like you were already starting to fall for him. him—cupid. it all seemed so ironic, like a big joke.

you put the books away and made your way home. the ball was in his court now. or should you say: the arrow was in his quiver? it was up to him how this whole relationship forming between the two of you continued, but you hoped you saw him again.

when night fell, you cuddled up in your bed early. perhaps he would come to you in another dream? you squeezed your eyes shut in the pitch black darkness of your room. it seemed like you laid there like that for forever, beckoning sleep, when you suddenly heard the light flap of wings against the wind. you had forgotten that you left your window open to let the cool night air in.

your eyes shot open and immediately looked towards the window. there was nothing there. how could that be? you distinctly heard wings, and you knew that no bird's wings around the area you lived in carried that kind of sound.

“you cannot look upon me…” you heard his voice trail off, barely above a whisper. you had to strain your ears slightly to hear it, but it was the same voice from your dream. only this time, less off-putting and disembodied. “it would not be good for the both of us,” he—cupid, continued.

you sat up in your bed, squinting your eyes for any glimpse of him you could manage even if he said that it wasn’t good. “why not? are you hideous?” you asked him, genuinely curious. cupid’s laugh carried through the window and to your ears, “that’s not possible. i thought you knew who i was? you dared to utter my name, didn’t you?”

“you are cupid, yes?” you asked him. cupid hummed softly in response. “since that is your true name, why must i not see your face? will i be blinded by your beauty?” you felt bothersome asking him so many questions, but what else were you supposed to talk about? how was your day? how many arrows did you shoot through the hearts of mere mortals and immortals alike?

there was a clear smile in his voice as cupid responded, “something of the sort… but cupid is not my true name.” your brows furrowed and you swung your legs over the side of the bed, blanket discarded to the side. in response, your body shivered slightly from the sudden exposure to the cold air. “then… then what is it?” you inquired. everywhere you looked, it said that cupid was his name. if not cupid, then what?

it was silent for a few moments and for a second you thought that he had left when he suddenly spoke, “knowing my true name isn’t safe, not yet. but, you may call me cupid. do i get to know yours?” a smile formed on your lips and you felt your face heat up against the cool air. he was just asking your name, what were you so flustered? “y/n…” you replied. “my name is y/n.”

“y/n…” cupid said, trying your name on his lips. you felt the tingle of his smile. you almost melted from your name coming from his mouth. “what a beautiful name,” he added. muttering out a thanks, you hid your burning cheeks with your hands. thankfully, the room was dark enough that he couldn’t see it, at least you hoped. you didn’t really know how gods worked, didn’t even know they were a real thing until cupid appeared in front of you.

cupid would come every night since then, just behind the barrier of your open window and pressed against the shadow of the night. the two of you would get to know each other—well, he would mainly get to know you and you would get some additional information or corrections on the things you could find about him on the internet and at the library.

“did you really shoot a lead arrow at that nymph?” you asked him. you had dared to sit just below the window, your back pressed to the wall against it as you stared into the darkness of your room. his voice came from overhead, and you could tell he was leaning above you, watching your figure. “it wasn’t one of my proudest moments…” cupid trailed, his voice closer than ever before, although there was some playfulness in his tone. “i felt really bad for what happened to her after. but it was so long ago, i haven’t even thought about it in a while…”

how badly you wanted to look up at him, climb through the window onto the fire escape and look into his eyes, but this was your compromise. cupid was watching you intently, like he always did, and you knew that once you saw his face it was over. your eyebrows raised, “and just how old are you?”

you knew that was a somewhat stupid question. he was a god, he was probably here when the earth had dinosaurs or whatever. in any case, he was definitely older than you were. “old enough,” he chuckled and you swear he held your heart in his hands right then and there. you couldn’t deny the feelings you had for him anymore.

a breeze flew through the open window and your body reacted with a shiver. “if you’re cold, go lay under the blankets. you don’t have to sit under the window,” cupid spoke, voice deep with worry. you shook your head and wrapped your arms a little tighter around yourself, “i want to talk to you… and i can barely hear you all the way over there. i’ll be fine!”

cupid let out a sigh, “i can come inside, if you want…” you tried not to let the smile creep over your face at the thinly veiled shyness in his voice. you nodded, “okay!”

“close your eyes and take a couple steps forward,” cupid spoke and you obeyed his demands. behind you, you could hear the screen part of your window opening and closing. you could hear his light footsteps come towards you. goosebumps trailed up your skin and you gripped the fabric of your pajama pants to keep your hands from shaking in anticipation.

you felt as warm hands found their way to your shoulders and again you resisted the urge to turn around and stare. another shiver ran up your spine, only this time it wasn’t from the chill. “still cold?” cupid asked. his hands trailed down your bare arms and to your waist, leaving more goosebumps. you felt as your body warmed at his touch.

this was the first time you had ever been so close. the first time that you both have even touched, and you weren’t gonna ruin it. squeezing your eyes firmly shut, you barely managed to nod, even though the coldness was now completely gone from your body. you still wanted him near you.

humming, cupid snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you towards him. his ivory wings wrapped around the two of you, enveloping you in its warmth. you sighed lightly as you sank into his touch. the two of you stayed like that for a while, his arms and wings around you and his head resting on top of yours.

“it’s hueningkai,” cupid had whispered after a long bout of silence. you had begun to fall asleep in his arms but his voice woke you right back up. “hm?” you hummed, confused. “my true name,” he spoke. “it’s hueningkai, but you can call me kai.” you smiled widely, so happy you were about to burst at the seams. “okay, kai,” you whispered back.

kai moved his face down so you were almost cheek to cheek. you felt him smile. “sleep, my dear.” melting at his words, you pouted slightly at how he moved his wings from around the two of you. you dared to crack open your eyes and saw the first beams of sunlight sneak into your room and the wisps of blonde hair in your peripheral.

“but… i’m not tir—“ you were cut off by a yawn that you couldn’t fight even if you tried and you mentally kicked yourself. kai’s chuckle was in your ear and he pressed a kiss to your cheek, immediately setting the skin underneath on fire. “i’ll see you tonight,” is all kai said before guiding you gently to your bed. you had gotten into it, facing away from him the entire time with your eyes once again shut, and curled up under the covers.

kai pressed another kiss to your temple and you heard his retreating footsteps towards the window. “sleep well,” he said before you heard the opening and closing of the screen of your window. then, somehow, you heard the closing and locking of the glass part of your window. you didn’t even bother questioning it, most likely part of whatever powers he had, as you drifted off to sleep.

that was the only problem with seeing cupid—hueningkai. it was only at night where he was sure that you couldn’t see his face. you even took extra measures to ensure that, facing away from him in the darkness and even closing your eyes at some points, not wanting his visits to come to an end. he always left before sunrise could peek its way over the horizon, and always came back just as the last house fell into shadow.

the next night, the world was darker thanks to the new moon. kai was back inside the four walls of your room, this time near the window of your room as you laid on the edge of your bed wrapped in your blanket. he had allowed you to look in his direction freely, not that you could see even his silhouette anyways. your bedroom felt like the void and it made you nervous that he would slip away.

“can you come closer?” you asked sheepishly, voice quiet against the night. “there’s so much distance between us and the heavy darkness is making me feel disconnected.” you heard kai’s light laugh trail closer and closer to you, “is that so?”

once he was just mere inches from where you laid on your bed, kai asked, “how close do you want me?” your cheeks flushed in slight embarrassment. there wasn’t anything flirty about the way he said that sentence, he seemed genuinely curious, but the fact that he was willing to be this close to you showed progress. you decided to be bold and scooted over in your bed. “can you get in?” you asked shyly, regret immediately pouring into you.

what if he said no? or worse, what if he left? what if he—

kai slid into the bed next to you, wings tucked tightly flat against his back. you felt him look over to you in the dark. “close enough?” he asked. there was a hint of a smirk in his voice. he leaned in towards you, until your noses were centimeters from each other. “or do you want me to get closer?” kai asked lowly.

you swallowed hard and hoped he didn’t hear. slowly, you moved closer to him and laid against his chest. you then tried not to smile at the quickening of his heart. kai moved to put the blankets over the two of you and then wrapped his arms around you. you heard soft humming in your ears and you didn’t know whether it was kai who was humming or if he was making you hear humming like he made the music play in your dream.

fighting against sleep, you moved to look up at him. although you couldn’t see him, you could feel his stare back on you. you raised your hand up to his face and let the pad of your thumb trail across his cheek. kai jolted ever so slightly at first, but let you continue.

in the darkness, you tried your best to map out his features. his cheeks, the curve of his nose, and plumpness of his lips. kai’s eyes closed as you ran your thumb lightly over his eye and felt his eyelashes.

the two of you said nothing, and slowly you dozed off with your hand cupping his cheek. the lace of his collar tickled your chin as you curled into him closer. in the morning, hueningkai was gone once again.

as hueningkai aimed the pink arrowhead at his target’s heart, his mind was completely on you. how close the two of you were last night to the point where you were curled up against him, breathing softly as your hand rested against his face. his heart had been drumming to the beat of a thousand drums and he was sure that you heard it.

with his entire being, hueningkai wanted to see you in a scenario that wasn’t the two of you in the pitch black. although he could see in the dark way better than mortals could, he wanted to see your face in the sunlight. in the candlelight—in some type of light. hueningkai wanted to watch as your features brightened even more with the introduction of light. he wanted to see your smile in all of its glory.

but he was afraid. afraid that you would see him as something he’s not. that you would start praising features he didn’t have. hueningkai was absolutely terrified that when you described what you liked about him, you would start describing someone else. but the need you see you in a different setting—the desire, knocked the wind out of him and consumed his thoughts. so as he let his arrow pierce through another heart, he made the decision of a lifetime.

hueningkai was going to show you his face.

as the last ray of sunlight fell below the horizon, he flew to your apartment building. just as the night devoured the daylight, hueningkai landed gently onto your fire escape. he opened your unlocked window and stepped lightly into the abyss of your bedroom. he watched as you turned to where you would assume his figure to be, and you surprisingly made eye contact with him. “hi, hueningkai!” you beamed with a warm smile that lit up your features.

“y/n, my love,” hueningkai had replied, his own smile taking over his face. he felt all his stress and worry of the day fall off of him just at the sound of your voice, his name coming from your lips. hueningkai extended a hand out towards you even though he knew you could see it. “i have something important to show you, will you follow me?”

you didn’t think twice as you got up from your bed and made your way towards him by the window. somehow, you found his hand in the dark and intertwined the two of them together. hueningkai helped you out of your window, making sure to close and lock it with a wave of his hand, and pressed you close to his chest. in turn, you wrapped your hands around his waist, gripping onto the back of his white lace top.

once he made sure you were secure and you wouldn’t come to any harm, hueningkai took off with you in his arms and into the night.

landing in the grand hall of his palace, hueningkai made sure that you were completely steady on your feet before letting you go. you had cracked your eyes open, no doubt noticing the light coming through your eyelids, and kept your eyes downcast as you turned away. you then looked up at the intricacies of hueningkai’s palace.

“it’s even more beautiful in person,” you mumbled. “so are you, my love,” hueningkai said, smiling at the back of your head. you scoffed playfully and shook your head, “you’re so lucky i can’t turn to look at you right now…”

hueningkai took your hand and guided you up the grand staircase to his wing of the palace when his bedroom resided. he wanted this moment to be special, just between the two of you, and didn’t want to be disrupted by any of the palace staff. you followed behind him, gasping and remarking on all of the detailed carvings and of the silver and gold accents as the two of you moved from hallway to hallway.

once the both of you had reached hueningkai’s bedchambers, he began to hesitate. what if everything went wrong? crashed and burned and crumbled? hueningkai couldn’t bear the thought of you desiring another. not when his heart was so full of you and only you that it was about to explode. not when all he wanted was to be by your side for forever. not when he loved you so much and so deeply—something he thought he was never capable of—that to lose you now would break him completely. strip him of his immortality and throw him to the darkness down below.

hueningkai couldn’t do it, he couldn’t show you his face like he had planned. at least, not tonight. he would try again tomorrow—but tonight, tonight he was all yours and you were all his.

“what did you want to show me?” you had asked him softly, keeping your back to him as you looked around. taking your hand, hueningkai led you to the bed and curled you up against him. with another wave of his hand, the candles snuffed out. “the change of scenery. thought that you might like being somewhere else for a change.” hueningkai pushed out, feeling guilty.

you smiled as you nodded. “can you stay with me, kai? until at least the early morning?” you then asked quietly, barely above a whisper. your hands gripped the fabric at the sides of hueningkai’s waist in a silent plea. how could he say no to you? “i will,” he whispered, pressing kisses to your eyelids. “when you wake, i’ll still be here. i promise.” it was the least hueningkai could do. and tomorrow, i will show you my face, he thought.

the two of you fell asleep that way, your chests rising and falling together in sync. hueningkai was determined to keep both of his promises. he just hoped that when you saw him, you didn’t see another. that he wasn’t see-through.

in the middle of the night, hueningkai felt you shift but thought nothing of it. he thought that you had just moved to a more comfortable position. his suspicion rose, and he started to wake up from his sleep a little, when he felt warmth near his skin. suddenly, something hot dripped onto his cheek. opening his eyes, he reared backwards, eyes wild as his back hit the wall.

there you stood, a lit candle dripping wax in your hand and a severely guilty look on your face. hueningkai’s first instinct was to flee, and he wasn’t thinking clearly. he launched towards the door when you yelled out, “wait!”

your voice barely registered in his mind. that was until you cried out, “hueningkai, please!” hueningkai stopped dead in his tracks, completely frozen by your beautiful voice. slowly, he turned to you in the light of your lit candle, his wing covering his face.

“i’m so sorry! i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to, curiosity took over me and the next thing i knew, i was hovering over your face with this candle. it wasn’t my intention to disrespect you or to put the both of us in danger. truly, i don’t know what’s gotten into my mind—“ you rambled as hueningkai turned completely, tucking his wings behind him. you cut yourself off mid-sentence, breath hitching.

hueningkai closed his eyes—or the eye that wasn’t covered—as he prepared himself for the heartbreak he was about to face. for you to see someone else. he jolted as he felt your hand cup his cheek. agonizingly slow, he opened his eyes to make contact with yours, his brows deeply knitted together.

you reached up and pulled away the eyepatch, letting it drop to the floor. not once did you take your eyes of his. hueningkai’s confusion deepened when he didn’t see the glassy look in your eyes. instead, the were clear as they moved from his eyes to the rest of his face.

fluttering his eyes closed at your touch, hueningkai felt as your fingertips glided over his eyelids. he opened them when they traveled down to his nose and cheeks and then rested for a moment at his lips. hueningkai could feel the pink spreading across his cheeks.

your eyes were wide, soaking up as much of him as you could take. your fingers then reached up to run through his fair hair. “i almost got your eyes right. they’re a lot warmer in person…” you had trailed, fingers moving back down to his lips. “and your lips are way more pink that i was expecting. around your eyes too, even though they’re the one feature i did see.”

hueningkai let out a soft sigh as he practically melted into your touch. nobody has ever seen him for him before, nobody. nobody except for you. you’re the only one who didn’t look at him with foggy eyes of glass, spewing random things about how he looked that weren’t true.

everything was too much for him at that moment and hueningkai pulled you close to him and into a feverish kiss that he wanted to do for so long. all he needed was your lips on his and the world made sense again. hueningkai now understood how and why mortals have gone mad by love. all because of you. all because of how much he loves you.

your hands grabbed hueningkai’s face as he deepened the kiss. both of your mouths worked together in perfect harmony, and when you pulled away, lips plumped and breaths heavy from lack of air, your lips were back on each other’s before you could even get a full breath in.

pulling away as you inhaled deeply, you and kai looked into each other’s eyes like the two of you were the only things that mattered at this moment. “i love you, hueningkai,” you had spoken, voice confident. hueningkai smiled brightly at you like you hung the stars and the moon, “i love you, y/n.” he then pressed another kiss to your lips, this one softer and less filled with need but still full of desire nonetheless.

“it was hard trying to draw you based on only your eyes and hair and what i got from touching your face, but it seems i was pretty accurate!” you exclaimed, smiling sheepishly. hueningkai hummed, “you’ll have to show me in the morning!”

hueningkai wrapped his arms around you tightly and you clung to him just as tight back. he had no plans of ever letting you go.

© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

permanent taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @rapmonie2047 @riaawr

(divider credit to fairytopea!)

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[mothtral]

to you, the rain had not stopped rising since geshu lin disappeared. most would tell you at this point, to try and move on. that you'd planted a flower--the first flower--in the field jiyan made, so didn't that mean you'd accepted it, at least a little bit?

you hadn't. you won't accept he's gone until some trace of him was found. his necklace, the one you made for him before he left you behind the first time to head for the front lines. scraps of the armor that covered his arm.

jiyan used to approach you, in the beginning. though well-versed enough in consoling people in grief to not push you until you were ready. jiyan never told you, but it wasn't hard to figure you weren't the only one who would see geshu lin whenever it rained.

(though, you have a feeling what he sees is a different geshu lin to yours.)

you weren't part of the midnight rangers, or work for the magistrate. you meeting geshu lin was by chance, or fate, as yangyang used to say. you were a small seller, taking up crafting jewelry or fashioning clothing from scraps of fabric and yarn. it was during a large market that the midnight rangers returned home to, years ago.

that was the night you met geshu lin. you didn't know who he was at first, apart from clearly being a member of the military. it was something geshu lin would tease you about, unaware that the big bad general was haunting your doorstep. he was heavily bandaged, with scars covering the slips of skin you could see.

you crafted him a set of earrings after urging him to choose the beads he liked best, and sent him on his way, refusing to take his money. you said it was thanks for protecting the city. the next day there was a welcoming ceremony, and you nearly fainted once you discovered just who you met the night before.

and somehow, it carried on from there. little meetings and small gifts between you two. one late night you showed geshu lin how you made your jewelry, and woke up the next day to him sliding a ring onto your finger, something he spent the entire night on. the crown jewel was from the original earrings you made him.

you hadn't taken it off. the only change was that you wear it on a chain now, scared it might slip off your finger when you weren't paying attention one day and it's lost forever. just like--

today was the anniversary of geshu lin disappearing, and no one has done anything. you knew popular opinion these days is that he got what he deserved, refusing to fall back. as if these people knew what the midnight rangers went through everyday, with the limited knowledge on retroact rain back then.

the celebrations today are for the other rangers that fell that day, and it planted a bitter root in your heart. you hid in your home that day, waiting until the flower field was deserted to visit. you won't pay your respects, as everyone else did. instead, you will sit with the flower you planted and watch the stars, something you did every time geshu lin came home.

(something else jiyan never said, biy you knew once a certain time hit, he would usher people away from the field to give you a moment alone. whatever you did to gain a friend like that, you'd never know.)

there's a watering can set to the side, and you take it to gently trickle water onto geshu lin's flower. you were about to start with your ramblings of the day, when soft footsteps crept toward you.

"come to finally join me?" you asked over your shoulder, assuming it was jiyan making his way to you.

"yes," an achingly familiar voice said, low and rough, like it hasn't been used in years, like it's been torn apart from screaming.

your head snaps up as your body twisted around, almost falling over into the grass. there, standing at the edge of the field, was the man that stole your heart and disappeared into the rain with it. but... something is wrong.

maybe it was the strange light in his eyes, or the heavy air that surrounded him like a second skin. his clothes traded from the standard black with accents to gain red and white, and his arm almost tucked behind him, like he was a child trying to hide the vase he broke. this was not the same man that left for battle and never returned. "i'm sorry it took so long for me to come home," geshu lin said. he took a step closer, and it was then that you saw what became of his arm. it had turned to blacken scales, glimmering in the starlight. purple glowed from the cracks, like his ability couldn't turn off. "i never meant to leave you alone. i'm home."

[sammyofold]

Here are those fic recs I promised you @incesthemes ! I hope there's some in there that you'll really enjoy <3 I split up the recs into overarching tropes to group some together, but I'll start with those that don't fit into any of the groups.

The list got a bit long, so I decided to split it up into two parts.

(Part 1 | Part 2)

Courting Death by theproblematique.

Summary: Sam Winchester lived the first six months of his life in a happy family; the next twelve years as John Winchester's only son, and the last decade as an orphan. He's supposed to die at twenty-two trying to save the woman he loves from a fire, because he doesn't have a brother to pull him back. But the night Sam meets his Reaper he discovers that Death is overly fond of pop-culture references, too beautiful to be real, and reluctant to kill him.

Servant of Servants 'verse by klove0511.

This is a two-part series (though I think it might've been intended to have more fics, its ending doesn't leave you feeling snubbed), posing the question: "what if it had been Sam who'd been mortally wounded at the end of Season 1?"

love potion no. 9 by according2thelore.

Summary: Dean drinks a love potion. Sam is falling apart at the seams because he's been in love with his brother for more than a decade.

keep me in a daydream by according2thelore.

Summary: After an accidental kiss makes a hunt go suspiciously well, Sam and Dean decide to try it again. And again. And again. It's no different from wearing lucky socks, right? A 5 + 1.

for you and me (i got no alibi) by remy.

Summary: There are people hitting on Sam wherever he goes, and Dean is doing weird things like holding doors open for him and touching him way more than is necessary, and it's all driving Sam up the wall. It doesn't help that he's been in love with Dean for just about forever, and all of it feels like a mockery of something he'll never get to have. Meanwhile, Dean is at his wits' end trying to figure out how he can make Sam realize that he is, in fact, trying to get into his pants.

Ben Has Two Dads by regala_electra.

Summary: When Ben turns thirteen and learns that Dean Winchester is his father, he runs away to join his father (and uncle). A tale where boys are boys, Vikings are Vikings, unicorns go to Candy Mountains, Dean and Sam are in big gay love, and Ben becomes a Winchester.

Last Temptation by merle_p.

Summary: Sam is running a fever again, the kind of fever no Ibuprofen or cold compress will bring down, the kind of fever that is eating him up alive, eviscerating him from the inside. He is too hot and too cold and too pale, delirious and shaking, resonating with whatever divine energy the trials are subjecting him to, and Dean is not sure how much longer he can stand to see him be in this state. Because Sam is quite possibly dying, and there is nothing Dean can do to stop it. Because Sam is dying, and he just. Won’t. Shut. Up.

Five Times Dean Forgot and One Time He Remembered by elsi.

Summary: Rowena warned him the obliviate curse might have “aftershocks.” That Dean could relapse to his amnesiac state without warning—though only temporarily, she assured. But this? This goes beyond calling a lamp a “light stick.”

Whatever It Is by theproblematique.

Summary: Both Sam and Dean get sent to the year 2014.

Take My Hand (Take My Whole Life, Too) by TeacupUnicorn.

Summary: Sam and Dean get handcuffed together during a hunt. With a werewolf on their tail and a proximity to each other they haven’t had since they were kids, their unstable relationship is put to the test and their trust in each other is pushed to the limit. Set sometime after 5x16 and before 5x20.

Not Her Sam by Yuval25.

Summary: Future Dean goes back in time to change the future and saves Jess. Future Sam tags along unexpectedly. And Jess is okay. No, seriously. She's fine.

Mistaken For a Couple

101 - mythology by ani_coolgirl.

Summary: As Sam, Dean, and Kali flee Lucifer's slaughter, Kali makes an assumption. The boys try to clear up any misconceptions. They don't do a very good job.

I need you so much closer by cherryvanilla.

Summary: five times they're mistaken for a couple plus one time they actually are.

Domesticity

Paisley by samsexualdeancurious.

Summary: After his mind wall was broken and was healed, Sam knows he can’t be a hunter anymore, so he and Dean retire, and Sam ends up finding a homeless dog who was abused and together they heal.

The Chicago Verse by compo67.

This is a series spanning a whopping 169 fics. I've read only a few of them and I enjoyed Sam and Dean retiring in this town together. It's still updating, looks like, since the latest fic added was in May of this year.

a few things worth saying by hathfrozen.

Summary: “So this morning,” Dean ventures as they blast down the highway in pitch black night toward a probable werewolf case. Sam looks over at him, thin eyebrows raised, eyes clear and calm. He’s not even difficult about it, doesn’t ask what Dean is after, doesn’t deny what had happened. Instead he says, very simply, “I just figure, why lie?” Alright then.

All The Way In by hunters_retreat.

Summary: Sam never did know how exactly it happened. One day, he and Dean were run ragged, exhausted from yet another disaster of a hunt, no money and no gas, no prospects and no allies left alive to give them a hand. The next, they owned a store with a shooting range and Sam was a professor of religious studies at a local community college.

Pre-Series & Season 1

To Blow Against the Wind by dreamlittleyo.

Summary: After Oasis Plains, Sam and Dean can't. Stop. Touching each other.

Star-Crossed by Agent_Hellcat.

Summary: Before Sam departs for Stanford, he writes a letter to Dean, begging him to come to Palo Alto with him.

Birthday Suit by wincestation.

Summary: On the morning of Dean’s eighteenth birthday, Dad takes him to buy a suit. Sam is… interested.

house song by according2thelore.

Summary: “The werewolf.” Sam says, quick. Hushed. Scared. “I don’t know how. I was—He was standing above you and then he wasn’t. And I think I did that.” Dean keeps whispering stuff to Sam, banal reassurances that Sam soaks up like a sponge, but he feels sick. Sammy did something impossible. Sammy’s been doing impossible things. For years. Or: Pre-Canon/Teen!chesters AU in which Sam develops powers at age eleven, Dean will do anything to protect him, and they have to live with the consequences

Outsider POV

What I've Done by Amoreanonyname.

Summary: He wasn’t going to say anything more about it. He could tell, Dean was happy to see him, but wasn’t going to humor this topic. Dean, young Dean would jump to obey John, to answer John’s questions, but this was an older Dean who was more loyal to someone else now. More loyal to his brother. John wasn’t the priority here, and he realized with another guilty jump in his stomach that he never should have been.

something you love and understand by monsterq.

Summary: In heaven, Mary makes an unwelcome discovery about her sons’ relationship.

a skeleton terribly restless by remy.

Summary: Mary knows she doesn't fit right in this strange new world she's woken up in, with these grown men masquerading as her sons, but she tries her best. She really does. She closes her eyes to all the things she does not want to see, and she lies to herself until she's convinced. Until she can't.

Flowers on the Window Sill by orphan_account.

Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester's relationship as observed by the good people of Star's Hollow.

Soulmates

Fix You by non_tiembo_mala.

Summary: After their encounter with Famine, the boys are in dire straits. With Dean left shaken by the horseman's taunts - which rang truer than he'd like to admit - and Sam juiced up on demon blood again, Dean is at a loss. He has no idea how to move forward, or where they're meant to go from here. Then again, they’ve always had each other - perhaps their salvation isn't as far away as it seems.

All Too Familiar by sammichgirl.

Summary: Sam's new hobby has consequences they never saw coming. Turns out, that's OK with Dean after all.

What We Do by BleedingInk.

Summary: Castiel catches Sam and Dean in a compromising position.

since feeling is first by queenklu.

Summary: That he wants to think this is Dean yanking a leash should make his blood run cold, not aching hot. It should make him sick, angry, it should get his fucking hackles up and make him fight. He does want to fight. But there’s a skin-thin line between primal things, and fighting isn’t all he wants to do.

if the dam breaks open many years too soon by deirde_c.

Summary: Sam’s soul springs a leak, and Dean’s the one who can repair it.

In the beached margin of the sea by rivers_bend.

Summary: Sam and Dean black out on a hunt, and when they wake up, Dean's having visions and Sam can't get new, strange feelings out of his head. When John finds out about the side effects, he'll do anything to get rid of the "curse". But Sam and Dean don't want to go back to the way things were before.

I Don't Need A Symbol by amoreanonyname.

Summary: It hadn’t meant that much to Sam at first. A warm glow at being able to do something nice for Dean, to give him something for once, to make him as happy as he seemed when he put it on immediately. It was what it meant to Dean that made it mean something else to Sam.

[chososluv]

#𝟏 𝐅𝐚𝐧 - P L U G ! S U G U R U

✎₊˚⊹♡ summary & note : continuation of my plug series. here the reader is a local rap princess and suguru is your plug and favorite supporter ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

🏷 tags & warnings: smut, 18+, plug suguru, rapper reader, black femme! reader, reader has a vagina, weed smoking, squirting, spitting, riding, cremepie, oral (f + m briefly) pet names (return of ma/mamas agenda) also i was very eager to post this and its subject to be edited

✎₊˚  word count: 3.1k

if anyone knows the artist please tell me!

minors do not interact

"How much you want again, mama?"

You look up from Suguru's hands to his face as his question registers. Your eyes feel heavy as the indica pulls you into a sweet, tranquil embrace. Your eyes are red, hanging low and Suguru drinks in the sight when he finally meets eyes with you again. He subconsciously licks his lips, your beauty causing his body to increase a few degrees with desire. The burn has him clearing his throat to focus and you give him a lazy grin. You don't realize, but you send him spiraling with your dazzling charm before replying.

"If I remember correctly, you said that if I finish the song you would smoke me out." You remind Suguru of a verbal agreement you two had last smoke session. A chuckle verberates, shoulders shaking as he brings a lighter up to seal the blunt he had been working on. His craftsmanship in his rolls never fell short and tonight was no different. As always, he hands the blunt to you first. He always lets you light it and inhale the first puff of potent gas. Suguru watches your sexy and glossed lips wrap around the blunt at one end and flick the lighter on the opposite. He replies as you light.

"Well, I have yet to hear this said record so where is it, mama?" Suguru taunts as he watches you hollow your cheeks. Your inhale is long and harsh, and a thick cloud of white smoke leaving your mouth confirms it. Suguru smirks, watching you stifle a cough as the cannabis renders you breathless. Your mind is numbing out once again, feeling peace as you lean back into the couch. You pass the blunt to Suguru.

"That gas is immaculate." You comment and he smirks before taking a hit. He's conservative with it, taking smaller but frequent puffs, a major juxtaposition to your bigger yet smaller amounts. He takes another small hit and replies.

"You should know better." He grins, causing a shockwave to go to your belly at his charming smile. You shake it off.

"I never expect less. Anyways, I have the track on my phone. Do you wanna hear it?" You ask as Suguru hands you the blunt back. You scroll through your phone as you take it, locating the track as you take another drastic inhale.

"You should know better than to ask me a fucking question like that." You roll your eyes at his profane language but nevertheless you know his intent. Especially with the way his hips turned into a lazy grin, eyeing at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. Little did you know you have Suguru wrapped around your finger badly. His personal weed stash was not shared with anyone, let alone a romantic prospect. He knew you were different the moment he saw you rapping on stage and gave him the meanest and stankest attitude when he pushed up on you. It took him several appearances at your shows to finally entertain a conversation and the chemistry was so instant you were mad you took so long to give him your attention.

The drug dealer falling sweet on the rising local princess was not a romantic storyline Suguru thought he would find himself apart of yet here he was.

You play the track and Suguru instantly catches the beat. His head follows along with the bass instinctively, eyes closed as he focuses on your lyrics, flow, and delivery. Whenever clever word play or flow switch ups occurred he let out a verbal affirmation or appraisal that left your ego swelling. You took another hit from the blunt as the song continues, your final verse playing as you finish the track strong. A menace and lyrical genius you are in the booth and Suguru shakes his head. He opens his eyes as he looks over to hold your gaze.

"You so damn talented, y/n. You gotta perform that soon." He declares, reaching for the blunt and you hand it to him. He settles deeper into the couch, spreading his thighs out and the sight of him manspreading caused a butterflies to be released briefly but you quickly pull yourself out ot it. You gather your composure before replying.

"I will and you better be front row." You give him a cute little stank face, mean mugging as Suguru puffs on the blunt. He smirks at you.

"Bratty little thing," the words travel straight to your cunt, "but sure thing, mama. You already know wassup." Suguru gives you one of his charming grins and you feel those butterflies get set loose again. You can't fight it and you smile back. Suguru knows it's a mix of infatuation and cannabis, but he has the sudden desire to kiss you. He looks all over you, seeing that lip gloss still painted on your plush lip, big hoops in your ears, and those sexy bangs you recently got done. You're a goddess and have the intellect to keep Suguru on his toes.

"Good." You utter at his declaration, bringing him from his thoughts and he hums. He refuses to look away, even slowly leaning his weight towards you to bring his face closer to yours. You feel your heart thundering in your chest to the point where it almost hurts. You see the look in Suguru's face and sense he wants to immediately fold you in multiple different ways. Your eyes flicker down, eyeing the gray sweats he greeted you at the door with and see a tent now present. You should have known you would be sweating your straightened hair right back into curls.

"Mind if I kiss you, ma?" That was one thing about Suguru, you wouldn't think this immediately because he's a dealer, but he's so tender and so considerate of your boundaries. You felt yourself swooning at the man next to you, his large stature leaning over you as his lips came closer.

"I been waiting for you to do since I came through the door." You confess and Suguru smiles. A large and warm hand reaches out to caress your cheek. He holds his hands there, guiding your pretty face forward to meet him halfway.

"That long huh? Let me not keep my pretty baby waiting any longer, hmm?" Your lips meet and your world seems to melt. All the stresses evaporate and are replaced with a single thought.

Geto Suguru.

"Missed you so much, baby." Suguru says, tongue kissing you on his bed and you huff against his lips. You chase after his mouth, diving back in for a kiss as your hand snakes down to his sweats. He groans when he feels your hand palm against his length. You feel your clit tingle at his groan against your lips.

"I missed you too, Ru." You manage to get out before kissing him again. You crave his lips on yours and feel satisfied when you taste him again. He lets you kiss him a couple more times, your strawberry gloss on his tongue and you taste it when he shoves his tongue inside. You moan, falling onto your back as he pushes you onto it. You feel him pull away and you start to chase after him until he raises to his hunches. You pout, looking up at the man as he looks down at you.

"Watchu poutin for?" He asks, raising an eyebrow as he takes the black elastic hair tie from his wrist.

"You're not kissing me." You say and he chuckles. You dig your toes into the comforter at how dark his laugh sounded and your lower belly awakens when you notice he's beginning to tie his hair up into a bun.

"Yeah? Cause i'm bouta fucking feast on that lil pussy take them panties off already."

He's going to be the death of you.

"Fuck, I missed eating this pussy."

Sloppy slurping sounds cause your head to spin. You moan uncontrollably as Suguru feasts himself between your legs. His tongue is darting skillfully along your folds, collecting every drop you have to offer. Your toes curl, thighs shaking as Suguru has you on your back, legs pressed to your chest and feet dangling in the air. Your pretty anklet dangles and it happens to be one of his many gifts to you.

"Miss when you spit on it." You whine out before you can stop yourself. Suguru raises an eyebrow from between your legs, stopping his feast to smirk. He doesn't say anything, but before you can retort at his pausing he gathers all the fluids in his mouth and spits violently. The majority of it lands on your clit, the rest trickling down your soaked cunt. Your eyes roll back at the filthy scene and Suguru brings his thick fingers to spread it around your swollen clit.

"Like this huh? Like when I mark this pretty pussy?" His fingers sink into your folds, fucking the spit into your hole and you nod.

"Mhmm, yes Suguru." You whimper and he smirks. He brings his lips back down to leave a messy kiss on your clit. Your head falls back into the pillows as he takes it into his harm mouth. His tongue flickers along the swollen button before sucking harshly. You clench around nothing, desperate for something but you're too fucked out to articulate you want his cock. You feel satisified with the way his tongue marks each inch of your cunt. His oral techniques were gifts that you loved to abuse.

"You taste so good," he moans, taking a break to look at his work. Suguru admires it, seeing your swollen and soaked mound. He places an index finger at your entrance, feeling the arousal collected and greeting him instantly. He swears under his breath at the warmth and tight embrace of your folds. You pant, throwing your legs open wider to wordlessly beg for more.

"Suguru!" You moan, bucking your hips to attempt to fuck his fingers. He grins, seeing a small ring of cream form around his finger.

"Pussy so fucking wet, mama," he removes himself from between your legs and rises to his knees, "need you to wet this dick f'me, baby." You are sliding to be on your knees, matching Suguru's stance and he raises an eyebrow. Your hands come to his face, holding his cheeks before kissing him passionately. Suguru moans and you're slipping your tongue into his mouth causing his dick to twitch. His hands fall down to the curve of your back, taking your ass in his hands and squeezing. You moan but only continue to passionately kiss Suguru. Your hands slowly came from his face, traveling down to his shoulders. You plant your hands firmly on his broad, strong shoulders and press down before Suguru can register.

"What's this?" He asks looking up at you as you straddle his waist. You look down, grinning as you sink yourself into his lap.

"Wanna ride you." You state, grabbing between your legs to stroke his length. Your delicate digits touching his warm cock and earning a hiss from his mouth. You take his lips back with yours. Your tongues dance once again as you lead his tip to your awaiting hole. Your eagerness caused you to sink down, ignoring the sting and relishing in feeling full. You moans in his mouth, and he finds his hands kneading at your ass. You begin bouncing up and down, earning illicit moans from the two of you.

"Fuck, you're so wet." Suguru says against your lips. You moan and continue bouncing in his lap. His cock inching in and out left you breathless and falling closer to euphoria.

"All for you baby." You tell Suguru. He blushes but meets your thrusts when you sink back down. You choke, moaning out a whimper as you lift your hips, sinking them back down to be met with another thrust from Suguru. A lazy smirk forms on his lips and you squeal. His balls slap against your rear as his kneading ceases and a slap occurs. You let out a scream at the sting and pure shock.

"So tight and warm." He grunts, continuing to meet your thrusts and you grin. Your thighs begin to burn but you block out the pain, continuing to ride your lover to his pending orgasm. You feel your roots sweating into their prominent curls and Suguru relishes in the sight. Nothing had him more prideful than seeing his girl come with straightened hair and leave with natural curls. He knew if you didn't leave your curls he didn't do it right.

"Ru!" You pant his nickname, choking as he thrusts deeper and hitting your spot. The stroke earns a gush of liquid to wet your thighs and his pelvis. He bites his lip as your nails begin to dig into his skin, smarking his shoulders with crimson lines. He doesn't mind and only continues to meet your bounces with quicker thrusts.

"This pussy was made for me." Suguru comments, savoring the way your cunt continues to grip and milk him ecstacy. You whimper, giggling softly before you speak back.

"This dick was made for me." Your retort is followed with you clenching your walls. Suguru moans out a soft laugh before his hand strikes down on your ass. You cry and he hits the opposite cheek. Handprints form on both cheeks and he massages the sting away.

“Gonna come in this pretty cunt.” Suguru warns, feeling his cock swelling and ready to explode at any moment. Your pussy continues to squeeze Suguru's cock while making it absolutely soaked. His dick is beyond wet, its drenched.

"Give it to me." You sultrily encourage, "missed your cum baby." His tip kisses that sensitive spot and you start whining. Your pussy squelching with each bounce in his lap and continuing to decorate his thick thighs. Suguru is moaning at this point, hissing at how you continue to grip him despite being so fucking wet.

"Fuck, ma you're squirtin' all over me." Suguru moans, biting his lip as he continues to meet your rhythm, You only moan, ceasing your bouncing to roll your hips fluidly, his cock sliding in and out with lewd squelching. You place your forehead against his as you moan at the feeling of him twitching inside you.

"Feel so full baby." You say against his lips and he grins, hand slapping your ass and causing you to toss your head back, yelling out a profanity.

"So fucking tight," Suguru grunts through clenched teeth, "imma cum soon." Suguru warns, moaning again as you continue roll your hips gracefully. You sigh at his words, still swirling your hips as you lean back. Suguru looks down and sees your soaked cunt leave a creamy ring around his cock. He swears at the sight as he fights to cum because god the view is fucking filthy. Your swollen clit stood at full attention as it begged to be touched.

"Fuck, Suguru!" You place a steady hand on the back of his neck to brace yourself as you continue to lean back. He bites his lip, seeing the way your tits bounce and your beautiful body rolling obscenely. Something primal shifts in him and he's placing strong hands on your waist. You yelp, feeling your body fall back till you land in the plush sheets. Suguru still holds your hips, having them in the air as he pistons his cock deep into you. You choke, screaming before you place a hand on his wrist as you choke on several moans. Suguru is grunting, eyes closing as he is near his end.

"Fuck! I'm gonna cum in this pussy." Suguru warns you as he feels his cock throbbing with each trust. The warmth and lewd noises coming from your cunt didn't help with the constant squeezing and soft pleas coming from your pretty mouth. Your mouth is hanging open as he continues to fuck you stupid, screams occurring as you struggle to grasp reality. Suguru's strokes render your mind completely blank.

"Ru-gonna-Cum!" You're choking, struggling to warn him and Suguru chuckles softly. He quickly moans though, as you squirt all over him yet again. He's cursing, hips snapping desperately as he felt his orgasm about to wash over him.

"Ah ah, baby fuck. I'm cumming!" He hisses out, sighing as he ruts sloppily, thick cum spilling inside you as you reach your undoing. You sob, thighs shaking as you back arches, tumbling into a thick abyss of pleasure. Suguru slowly lets out his thrusts, leaving you whimpering shivering as he slips out of your cunt. You shudder out a breath as you slowly open your eyes. His cock goes limp, but still wet with your arousal as you sit up. You're in a daze, but nevertheless you reach forward wrapping your lips around his limp cock to taste you and him. He hisses at the feeling but allows you to suck. You pull away, only to get pushed down yet again.

Suguru spreads your legs, eyeing at your abused cunt but he waits. Surely, his cum trickles from between your folds and he licks his lips. He leans down to lick a quick stripe up your cunt, fat tongue lapping the taste of you two before crawling up your body. He meets you with a kiss, swapping more than just salvia and you suck on his tongue. He pulls away, licking his lips before speaking.

"So fucking nasty." You giggle at him and he chuckles along with you.

"It's why you keep fucking with me." You tease, smiling lazily in the post sex haze. Suguru only smiles before kissing you once again.

"One of a few. C'mon. Let's shower and smoke another blunt huh?"

He always knows just the right things to say to you.

A shower and clean up routine later you're settling into his bed passing a blunt back and forth.

"When's your next show, mama?" Suguru passes you the blunt as he exhales. You take it, looking up from his chest before replying.

"Next Friday." You take a hit and watch him nod. He makes a mental note to clear his schedule on that day. Ever since fucking with you he always made sure he was present at your shows.

"I'm there." He said. You smile, nodding because you knew he meant that. This man before you taking the time to make sure he was always there to be your number one supporter. You didn't know if you and Suguru would ever be committed together, but you didn't bother to stress yourself with uncertainties. As long as you had the man before you in your corner. The world could burn away.

But as long as you weren't separated from Geto Suguru, you'd be fine.

©𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐯 ╰┈┈➤ MASTERLIST!

[ladykailitha]

If I were to do a A/B/O story with Steddie this is how I would do it (I've never done omega-verse for any of my fandoms, but damn there is something about Steddie that just screams it, you know?)

Steve was sold to a place that uses infertile omegas as sex toys. Rut servicing, gang bangs, orgies, or even just pretty arm candy for special events. The point is that the Harringtons sold him when they found out he couldn't be sold to the wealthiest, most influential alphas as a broodmare.

They are pretty much indentured and have to pay off the debt of how much the company paid for them. Steve pays off his debt and stays. Most omegas leave, but he loves what he does. He really loves rut servicing. It's his favorite because he has all the control during the three to four days the alpha is sex crazed. He also loves that he can take care of them without them thinking he's in for the bond bite.

Steve's at some gala or event or whatever on the arm of an older alpha, probably a senator or someone important like that when he meets Eddie Munson, frontman for Corroded Coffin.

They're introduced and they hit off, until Steve mentions offhand that he's infertile. Because that angers Eddie for some reason.

Eddie sets up Steve to be his rut servicer and demands that Steve be placed on some kind of birth control. It's a strange request, but it's granted.

When Steve arrives, Eddie tells him under no uncertain terms that either of them are going to be barebacking. Condoms are required.

This pisses Steve off. He's infertile and these demands are just ridiculous. He can't get pregnant.

Eddie scoffs. If he was infertile it would reflect in his scent. It would be sickly sweet, like overripe fruit. Cloying almost. But Steve doesn't smell like that. He smells darker, woodier, more like spices then fruity.

Steve frowns, he hadn't heard that about omegas, but it made sense, his other co-workers did have that sweet smell, but never really thought about it being different than his own.

But before they could talk it out, Eddie goes into his rut hard. Harder then it's ever been and Steve is pretty much scrambling to keep up with the sex.

At the end of the five days, Steve is worn out and ready to pass out for the next week, but he needs to know what Eddie was talking about.

Eddie tells him that he's not infertile, he's an ultra-fertile omega. So rare that they present in only 1% of the human population as a whole. Red-heads are more common they are.

Basically they are only fertile during their heats, but instead of having only a 1 in 5 chance of getting pregnant like omegas do in heat (1 in 8 out of heat), they can get pregnant 4 in 5 chance of getting pregnant. In fact, they are so revered that they can have their pick of the best alphas in their country. Some of them even go so far as casting their net over the whole fucking world.

Steve isn't sure he believes him, but his parents never tested for it because it was too rare. So it's possible that he could be, it's not like he can test it now. The test needs to be done at the time he presented. The only way to know for sure is if he shared a heat with an alpha (he's not allowed to as service omega to spend it with anything but toys) and he doesn't know of any alpha willing to take the chance that he might be some golden omega.

Only Eddie is totally willing. Willing to even bond Steve, with or without the ultra-fertility.

Steve is shocked. He's even more shocked when he goes into heat just from being so close to Eddie. Because he's on blockers, that's not supposed to happen.

While Steve is still cognizant he consents to Eddie helping him through the heat, suddenly grateful for the condom and birth control stipulation is suddenly very welcome.

It's only a light one that lasts a couple of days, but it's the best he's ever had. The first he's ever shared with an alpha. And he loved it.

He found out that in order to share Steve's heat, Eddie had to pay a lot of money for the privilege so he just bought Steve's contract as a whole. The one he made because he brought in so much money to the company.

They talk about bonding and sharing Steve real heat. The reason Eddie was so insistent on the contraception measures is that his scent had been known to break blockers in the past.

Which makes sense, some alphas just have that strong a scent. It's not a thing like an ultra-omega, but just something that could happen. The company tended to screen those types of alphas and made sure that the omega would be safely whisked away. It just never happened to Steve before.

Eddie courts Steve properly and they bond. And sure enough Eddie was right Steve gets pregnant, and suddenly Steve's parents are banging on the door demanding they be compensated for the fact that he's an ultra-omega and could have been sold for lots, lots more money then the company gave them.

But Steve tells them to fuck off and slams the door in their faces. And Steve and Eddie live happily ever after with their growing family.

First chapter of the full story here.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Also don't think anyone has said this (thats a joke) but like, art styles aside:

The animation, expressions, movement, everything of ATSV is IMPECCABLE.

Like insanely, ridiculously, almost mind bogglingly good.

[This is a MEDIUM length post]

The main strength is the Emotion -

In terms of animation, the range of emotions Miguel is capable of expressing is like... crazy good. Gwen's emotions ARE UNSPEAKABLY IMPRESSIVE.

LIKE...ANIMATING HER FUCKING BREATHING???? AND BLINKS!! AS AN EMOTIONAL CUE. HELLO???!!

And the movie hinges on this - almost every scene has an emotional cue that HAS to hit. Whether is Jess's looks of hesitation or Peter B.'s looks of horror.

And this may seem like the most ridiculous comparison ever made but like...

The Bee Movie and Across the Spider-Verse came out FIFTEEN YEARS APART.

THE BEE MOVIE...THIS MONSTRASITY that has plagued humankind - was made less than two decades from THIS:

The fact that we progressed that far as a society (pun intended) in that short of a time will never not baffle me.

I genuinely cannot name any other animated movie that:

Has multiple styles throughout the duration

Can seamlessly change styles without the viewer immediately noticing (like Gwen returning to her universe)

Show two or more animation styles on screen at the same time (and no, Roger Rabbit and Space Jam don't count - that's half live action lol)

Just off the top of my head - ATSV shows up to three styles in one scene: I'm mainly thinking of the scene that shows Hobie (customized - style 1), Peter B. (standard - style 2), and Miguel (a light stylized - style 3).

It can be brought to four if you want to count Miles/Gwen, though their style isn't visible.

I can think of a couple scenes that genuinely blew me away in terms of animation -

One being Rio's 'What-EVER?!' because of the little stance correction and head bob she does, because it's such a natural thing to do. And it adds so much to an already perfect line.

It's something someone would genuinely do IRL without even noticing.

Another I LOVE is Pavitr and Hobie roughhousing.

Like, I can't yell about these five seconds of animation more.

It's SO fluid it looks like Motion-Capture and I left the theatre googling is any Mo-Cap was used in the movie (and from what I can tell - no, it's all original animation).

The way Pavitr falls to the side and bumps them - This not only being a natural reaction to Hobie and his weight, but it also LOOKS natural. So much so you can see it affect Hobie's model too. The movement has kinetic energy on both models -

Which is AMAZING CONSIDERING THEY'RE ANIMATED ON LIKE FOUR DIFFERENT TIMES.

In this shot alone, there's the guitar, vest, AND Hobie, all of which have their own animation rules. Plus the outline on his guitar AND him. And then there PAVI too, who's running at a higher frame rate, touching and interacting with Hobie.

So much so that Hobie's model nearly wraps himself around Pavi. Pavi's hair is moving, Hobie's guitar is moving, there's movement in the background - and it looks GREAT.

PLUS THE CAMERA IS MOVING AND GOSTLING. IT'S NOT A STATIC SHOT. The models and camera are moving AS IF THEY'RE REAL when they're not.

That's - My..I CAN EVEN COMPUTE THAT.

But by far, I think the range of expression used on Miguel is like... Chef's kiss.

(of course I was gonna trick you into reading another post about Miguel. Uh-huh that's what's about to happen)

Like... are you kidding me?

NAH DEADASS ARE YOU KIDDING ME?????

The whole later half of the movie hinges on Miguel looking buckwild crazy insane and they NAIL that. And like-

Oh my god what the actual fuck

?????????????????????????? I........ I have nothing to add. After that picture......Nah... LMAOOO

(left: actual photo of Moche watching this happen)

But Anyway chile, This movie is like.. genuinely a modern marvel.

If Marvel gave Tim Gunn 4 billion dollars and five years, whatever live-action rendition he would have made would not even compare to ATSV on any conceivable level - that's how good it is so jot that down.

And like...don't even get me started on Hobie..his design..his representation...girl I will start crying in this Arby's do not play with me

I just felt that needed to be said.

you get what I'm saying yall know what I mean iight coo

Here's a picture of Hobie to cleanse your palette.

Bye.

[soothinglee]

| shitty 808s - kim jongseob x gn! reader - 1.2k wc✔︎

my notes⎯ sorry for not writing in a bit- I got hit by a scooter and lost hearing in my left eye. anyway- enjoy! (ilovejongseobsm). also the reader is younger than jongseob- so they're the maknae! warnings⎯ lowercase intended, cursing, not really proofread, I don't know jackshit about making music- I do make it just for fun but I don't know it on a professional level. songs⎯ "take you there x no bs" | dj short and "trillions" | alicia keys

“dude this sounds like shit.”

“it’s literally only 808s. it’s not going to sound good.”

“tell that to carti.”

jongseob groans and relaxes his body into the creaky studio chair. from where he's at; body slouches and neck bent, he feebly grabs for the mouse, each time he reaches he just barely misses it- giving a pitiful grunt every time.

you slap his hand away playfully, scooting your chair over in his place to play with the track. in the 30 minutes you've been in the studio you only managed the 808s. ass, in your opinion but something to start the song off as a base.

"what are you doing?" he mutters, looking towards the desktop screen. the black background of the software lights up every time you move around tracks. the purple and blue sections reflect off his glasses, "stop pressing stuff, you're gonna mess it up."

a scoff leaves your lips absentmindedly, choosing to replace the pre-made 808s with a original. you play it back for a spilt second- nodding to yourself feeling content in your work.

"you should be thankful I'm helping you," you start, adding a few high hats some measures into the song, "today is my off day and youngji just came out with a new episode."

he rolls his eyes and reaches over to grab his water bottle, he uncaps it and throws the lid on your lap. you make no effort to move it, "you would've had to come in eventually. jiung needed you today to record your verse."

you reach over to twitch your hand infront of his bottle, as if faking him out. he jerks his body away from you quickly, the water shakes in his hand- some even coming from the top and onto his sweater.

"bro." it comes out weak and quiet, a frown forming on his lips but you're quick to talk over him;

"for him, I wouldn't have complained. it's different when I have to do it because it's scheduled then come in to help someone work on his song." you spilt the back ground voices you added from files and slip in theo's guitar solo along with a 4 bar bass drum.

at this point you haven't listened to what has been added, jongseob still hogging the headphones. though you have enough confidence in yourself, and as one of the main producers, to know that the song will be somewhat decent- and way better than whatever he had before.

"what even is your inspo?"

"'bambi', baekhyun."

he makes a face, "sexy, no?"

you shrug, clicking around on the application to add some reverb, "piece will love it, fnc will tolerate it, intak will be happy. what more is there?"

he doesn't respond.

the difference between the software when jongseob had it compared to it in your hands is insane. infront of you the screen decorated with rainbows of colors, the static lines tracking the sound range from lengths and size. it's beautiful.

you feel a heavy weight on your left arm and look down to see jongseob leaning on you, he lets out a tired breath, and reaches up to fiddle with the loose string on your sleeve.

"are you almost done yet? you're hogging my equipment and I have other stuff I need to do."

"is all you do is complain?" you ask, titling the song with a random phrase and saving it, "because if that's the case I'll just get keeho."

his grip on your sleeve tightens as he tenses. for some reason jongseob is afraid of keeho- the latter always picking on him and fighting him. you would ask why and how it started but in all honesty, you couldn't really care.

"no no no, it's okay. you can keep working."

a proud smirk graces your lips as you reach over to slip the headphones off his head. he lets you, reaching forward to give you better access, smiling when he feels your hands pat down the mess they left.

you bend down slightly, apologizing when his head falls from your shoulder, and blindly reach for the tower to unplug the cord from its socket. "alright," you mess with the setting once more, turning the volume up enough so it can be heard. "you ready?"

jongseob yawns, "about time." you smack him upside the head.

the song is only about 3 minutes long, but in that three minutes it sounded wonderful. even though you were on playing around with it, something to keep jongseob satisfied until he could figure out what he really wanted to do with it, you think it could actually be the final product.

as the song plays you would take a look at his face to gauge his opinion. he seemed to like it; bobbing his head with the melody, a soft smile on his lips. it made you feel somewhat better about missing youngjis' show.

"okay, what do you think?" you ask as the beat fades out, you pause it so it doesn't play again and turn your body towards him, knees knocking each other.

he doesn't say anything for a minute, staring at the poster on the wall behind your head. his face is back to neutral. you think about snapping your fingers infront of his face to wake him up.

after a while he takes in a breath and says, “buns, actual buns.”

“you’re only saying that because it’s not jiung working on the song.”

he doesn't say anything but nods in agreement. there's a cheeky smirk on his face. "if that's the case, I'll just delete the song." you move the mouse to press erase before a hand catches you before you do.

"don't." he says, a mild glint in his eye as he pries your fingers from the mouse. he gently places your hand back in your lap while maintaining eye contact, moving the device to his side of the table.

"so it's not 'buns'?" you ask, the smirk back on your face.

he hesitates and then says, "no it's still ass, but why would I delete it just to start over, waste of time."

you laugh and go to answer but your phone vibrating catches you off guard. you use your face to open it to read the message;

멘토르 (mentor) come to floor 4 pls, we're ready for you :)

"uh oh," the chair beneath you slides backward as you stand up to collect your belonging. the bottle cap falls from your lap as you hand jongseob his headphones, "duty calls, i'll be gone for about an hour or two, if you need me, don't. I'll be busy."

he laughs, watching as you put on your shoes. you places a kiss on his head as you retreat for the door. you hear the clicking of a mouse and muffled music from behind you.

as soon as you reach for the door knob a voice calls out. "yeah?"

jongseob, hood pulled back so that you can see the bangs of his brown hair, his glasses that reflect the sparkle in his eyes, and the big smile on his face says, "I know I give you shit but thank you. you saved me a lot of trouble."

you smile back at your elder, a content look matching his own, "hey, anytime."

you close the door and head towards the elevator.

⎯if you want to be apart of my taglist let me know!

→ thank you for reading!

[spirkme915]

spirk fics i've read in the last two-ish months and loved

I will have you (if you let me) by ros3bud009 @roseymoseyberry (TOS) - starting out this list with a ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ fic. i loved everything about this fic - the premise (k&s know they're t'hy'la from the second they meet), the yearning, the journey, the love. i could live in this fic

Spock 🖖 by vaksur, WerewolvesAreReal (TOS) - need a laugh? this one is it. spock decides to use emojis in his comms. shenanigans ensue

A Friend Like You by kierawrites (TAS, yes you read that right an animated series fic!) - pre-slash, a glimpse into their lives after the episode "mudd's passion." this one is short and yet is packed with *them*

A Different Perspective by Maeko (AOS, SNW) - transporter malfunction fic, and this time it brings AOS Spirk to SNW verse. loved this one for the AOS Spirk dynamics, but mostly the SNW Spock and AOS Spock interactions and Maeko's perspective of Vulcan telepathy. it's a fascinating character study!

in the dying of the light by scar_a_mouche (zanni_scaramouche) @zanniscaramouche (AOS) - i'm not sure how to categorize this one, other than to say that i had this *ache* in my chest through every sentence and it just felt so AOS Spirk that i wanted to drown in it. one of my faves over the last few months

Personal Personnel Protocol by dothedeux (TOS) - another comedy entry for the list. this time it's not just the bridge crew that knows what's up, it's the computer. such a fun read and so sweet too

Professor Kirk by TonightNoPoetryWillServe (AOS) - cadet spock, professor kirk, and all kinds of fluff with only a touch of angst. perfect bedtime reading

Let Forever Be by gunstreet @gunstreet (TOS) - listen. i need everyone to drop what they're doing and read this fic. it's a city on the edge of forever fic that is mostly a jim character study but pulls in queer history. it breathes compassion and humanity, and is stocked with OCs you'll fall in love with. another ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ read

Shall We? by Jenna Hilary Sinclair (JennaHilary) (TOS) - yet another comedy entry? what has the world come to? i love my angst just as much as the next spirk truther, but when comedic spirk is done right it hits perfectly and this one is definitely done right

And When the Bond Breaks by LadyRa (TOS) - finishing this spirk list with a final ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ read. this became easily one of my favorite TOS fics of all time. it's from 2003 and deserves WAY MORE hits, kudos, and comments than it has!

for the non-spirk entries this time around:

StarDate.org by Exxact (TOS/AOS fusion) - christine/t'pring and online dating. fluff and friendship. perfect

The Time of Neither by gunstreet (SNW) - spoimler nation rise! your definitive fic has arrived!

My World Is No Longer Hollow by existentialcrisistime @existentialcrisistime (TOS) - a mcspirk fic about finding where you belong. so beautiful

and two recs for WIPs for you to read and subscribe to:

Place Your Hand In Mine by remylebae @twinkboimler (AOS) - a super sweet mckirk fic about leonard having a secret admirer (who could it possibly be??)

It's Not An Illusion by Borealisblue @thetimetostrikeislater (AOS) - gorgeous story about healing and gorgeous artwork? i'm sold!

please do send me recs, and don't be afraid to self-promo! you can find all my recs here

[spotsandsocks]

Vampire!Buck munching on cardboard because it feels kinda good

Eddie: Wtf are you doing Buck?

😆😆😆

Well that had just put a big smile on my face thank you - and now beloved anon I hope you read this and enjoy (based in same universe as my recent vamp! Buck fic.

“Can I have this?”

Eddie looks over his shoulder to see Buck holding up the box that Christopher’s new trainers got delivered in.

It’s an innocent enough request Buck must need to post something, so he says yes. Why wouldn’t he, it’s good to recycle after all.

It’s odd though because he spots it the next time he’s at Buck’s loft in the recycling bin. It’s definitely the same one because it has the same logo on it. Except it now has several dozen little puncture marks along the edges. Odd but not anything particularly worrying.

Except he finds the same puncture marks on not one but two boxes in the storage closet at the station the following week and then again in a cereal box in his own recycling bin. That one’s been shoved down to the bottom but the wind caught him as he was carrying it all out to the bins so he ended up collecting cardboard and paper from his front yard and staring at the now familiar marks in his own cereal box that he knew he hadn’t put there. It can’t be mice, the bite marks are too big, and that’s what they are bite marks. It looks like a cat has been chewing along the edge, he doesn’t have a cat though. What he does have is a vampire for a boyfriend. A theory starts to form along with a plan to get to the bottom of this little mystery.

He starts leaving out more boxes at home and at Buck’s, also at work to test the theory.

It’s not untill he’s letting himself into Buck’s loft that he gets to the bottom of it. As he walks in he catches sight of Buck behind his kitchen island, the door opening has his boyfriend jumping half way into the sky and spinning so his back is to the door. He had something in his hand. Eddie just catches the sound of something firm but not heavy hitting the ground as Buck turns back around, the perfect picture of guilt.

Trying not to sound too amused he asks his boyfriend casually“what ya doing?”

“Nothing.”

Eddie is well versed in “Buck” and that nothing was definitely a something.

He wanders over until he’s on the same side of the island and he’s looking down at their feet while Buck is looking anywhere but.

On the floor between them is a cardboard box. Eddie stares at his competition.

“Well I can’t say I’d expected to be replaced by the recycling.”

Buck pushes his shoulder with a roll of his eyes and a quiet “shut up” He’s a delightful shade of pink so he must have fed recently.

“Is this another stupid diet?”

Eddie manages to keep a straight face and is rewarded with the reaction he’d hoped for.

“Fuck off! That was a food plan!”

Eddie gives into the grin. “Sure thing baby, and the cardboard is???”

“I just like it ok. It feels good, fun. I like punching the little holes”

Eddie almost loses it when Buck makes a little biting gesture to demonstrate.

“Do you now?”

“Yeah.” Buck shrugs half a smile on his face, “I like making patterns. “

Eddie nods with an amused pout as he starts to unpack the shopping he’d brought over so they could cook, “ok then, don’t let me stop you, nibble away Picasso. ”

Buck scoops to pick up the box and toses it towards the recycling. “You’re hilarious- really”

“At least I know what to get you for Christmas this year.” Eddie smirks at the response.

“Don’t you dare!”

He does dare and gets his ridiculous adorable vampire boyfriend a range of cardboard boxes of various sizes, types and construction for Christmas. Buck pulls a face and throws a pillow at him when he opens his gift but his eyes light up anyway and he starts a range of experiments that keep him happy for hours as he works through the different textures to find out which ones are his favourite.

Eddie watches with a fond and indulgent smile. Chris shakes his head in despair and Buck with a delighted grin finally declares that a medium weight corrugated cardboard provides the superior biting experience by far; at least in terms of cardboard.

He makes it perfectly clear later that his top favourite thing to bite is still Eddie.

[momodita]

snapshots. [—millions knives]

TAGS / WARNINGS: trigun stampede verse, no crash       au, gender neutral reader, possessive behavior,       plant mating cycles (implied aphrodisiac       effect), jealousy, implied predator/prey WC: 1,000 NOTE: buff knives save me. save me buff knives.

✗ MINORS / AGELESS / BLANK BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

“What do you think of Vash.”

Knives doesn’t ask questions—he makes demands. You’ve barely set the tray with his supper down before he speaks. This side of the ship is out of range of the hull’s lights. He’s facing away from the window, but even his reflection seems to stare. The air is noticeably sweet—almost unbearably so. Like honey.

“Good evening to you, too.” The tease comes first, reflexively. His nose wrinkles, expression testy. He’s confined himself to the ship’s residential sector all day: no wonder he���s extra irritable, you didn’t hear anyone else en route to his room.

“Answer me,” he commands.

You appraise him, pausing. His clothes are loose—as casual as he’ll allow himself. He looks no less ruffled than normal, but his body is poised: the eerily motionless outline of him stark against the midnight stretch of glass.

“We’re friends? I'm sure he would say the same.” You pull words with careful truth. Since childhood, Knives has stuck to Vash like glue. Rarely are they seen apart, except the occasions they fight and when duty pulls them to different sectors.

Vash is companionable and easy to approach; the same cannot be said for his brother. Yet over the years you’ve come to consider Knives somewhat of a close friend as well.

You tell him this—cheerful despite his mood—but he merely stares, expression pinched; unsatisfied. The honeyed air is so thick, you can almost feel the crawl of it in your lungs.

“You’re hiding something,” he insists, agitated. “That’s not all, is it?” He’s losing patience. You’ve no idea what inspired these questions, what he hopes to gain from asking them. Is he perhaps envious of his brother’s wide network of friends? In no lifetime would he care for tips on getting along with people. That’s how he's always been—a far cry from his personable, people-loving brother, but no less intelligent.

Head tilting, your confusion is obvious. “…What’s with the interrogation?” If you’d known he was in the mood to scrutinize, you wouldn’t’ve volunteered to bring his dinner.

“Answer me.” He steps forward, closing the short distance between you. Instinct tells you to flee, but it’s just Knives. He’s just Knives. “I’ve seen the way you look at him. How he dotes on you.”

Vash dotes on everyone. He supplies you snacks during long shifts, he cracks jokes that make you laugh, he listens to your worries, he keeps you company in the wee hours—but he does that with everyone. He’s let you nap in his room a couple times, but it’s closer than yours and you’ve been found dozing off in the kitchens. A bed is better than the floor.

“Knives, are you alright?” He’s got all the movement and concentration of a hunting animal. The kind you’ve seen from archived media. You take an instinctive step back.

He descends upon you like a wall. The years have been kind to his height and build: he closes the distance between you in just three strides. Fear blooms, unbidden and merciless—you think he’s going to hit you. But there’s a bruising pressure around your arm, his grapple like iron as his heaving chest presses against you—into you—forcing a hasty retreat until your heel knocks the door.

The movement pushes air from your lungs, and you realize late—much too late, far too late considering who you’re dealing with—that he is the reason for this sweet aroma. It fills your nose as he aligns your bodies together, all but squishing you into the cold steel.

“Stay,” he hisses. A wide, hot palm pressing into your hip. “Tell me what you think of my brother.” The hairs on your nape stand straight as he speaks against your temple. “All of it.”

(The other crew members had seemed apprehensive. One suggested to wait for Vash so he could do it. But it’d gotten too late. There was no guarantee he’d come back. They’d been apprehensive, but maybe… maybe not for the reason you initially thought.)

“You’re not for him,” he’s saying, sounding almost delirious. “You’ll never be for him.”

“I’m not for anyone!” Alarmed by his strength—his unwillingness to release you, struggling is an easy choice. “Knives, let’s think rationally—”

“I am thinking rationally.” He looses a rough, clipped breath. Nerves splinter a fierce trail down your spine when his face presses into the length of your throat.

“You’re not.” It’s useless to admonish him in this state: he listens to nothing. Not logic, not facts, not even Rem. “Knives, let me—let me get Vash. I’ll get Vash and we can—”

The teeth are a surprise. They scrape up your throat—a ragged breath flickers down your esophagus, fingers jumping up to fist into the material of his shirt. The heat of his body is unrelenting. The saccharine smell is so violently potent. It makes your knees oddly weak.

“You’re mine.”

…What?

You nearly go limp against him—the shock saps you of any fight. He’s acted this way a handful of times before. The memories are finally resurfacing: being easily aggravated, making impossible childish demands. It happens infrequently, but on a schedule. And this syrupy fragrance… you’ve experienced it before in a diluted form: years ago, when Vash had been red-faced and forced to tell you about certain cycles—

“Knives, this smell isn’t—don’t tell me you’re—”

“You came to me willingly,” Knives breathes, rough and low. His markings begin pulsing with light. His mouth is hot and wet as it moves over your rabbiting pulse. Hungry. “You knew.”

Oh. Oh no.

“I came to deliver your food,” you protest, muffled into his chest as his arms tighten, squeezing you against him. He looses something like a growl into the dip of your shoulder, rubbing his face there. “Knives,” you plead.

Distant thundering footsteps approach. His eager fangs are sharp—they threaten to break skin. And you, for all your struggle, cannot muster the coherence to protest.

[itsbubbleteataro]

Hehe inspiration is fun

I'm kinda in the mood for some angst so let's get to it! I ended up getting inspired by one of my favorite songs by my favorite band.

Please enjoy!

Pairing; human!Alastor x human!fem!reader

Warning; Alastor being Alastor, death, gore, murder, cannibalism 

Six feet under the stars

Summer of 1932 in New Orleans

You and Alastor had been living together for quite some time now. You moved in with him around two years ago and have been engaged for a little over two months now.

Tonight was a rare night where Alastor had gone out again for both a hunt and a surprise for you. Yes, you knew about his hunts and to be honest you didn't mind them. I mean you yourself had been doing something similar.

You were the daughter of a tea salesman and were well versed in the art of tea. Sometimes when dealing with a rather rude customer as you worked at your father's shop, you snuck a little something extra into the teabag, just a pinch of arsenic. Okay well maybe not just a pinch but enough to kill a man.

Anyways you looked at yourself in the mirror checking your appearance once more in the mirror. You wore a simple sundress as it's the summer and summer in the bayou can get quite hot and swampy.

You looked at the paper on the dining room table double checking where it said to meet Alastor. You laced up your boots with the heels before you stepped outside, walking down to Thames street where your lover wait for you.

*******

When you approached your fiancé you saw that he had changed out of his hunting clothes, he must have stopped at home while you were busy getting yourself ready.

With a hum the two of you linked arms and walked towards the outskirts of a different part of the bayou. Don't get me wrong, Alastor still knew this part very well and you trusted him in every way shape and form and in turn he trusted you. Trusted you enough to see him covered in blood, eating human hearts, even his hair in its naturally curly state.

Alastor lead you over to a waiting blanket and picnic basket, taking your hand he brought you to sit down.

"I was hoping we could have a lovely picnic this fair evening baby" 

His eyes shown in the low lighting. You swooned. He was always doing sweet things like this for you. You helped him set up the food, your matching engagement rings sparkling in the starlight. He had picked out matching rings himself, the main stone in yours being a ruby with small diamonds around it. A blood red stone, fitting choice for two serial killers.

About halfway through your evening you both had finished the food. It was one of the rare occasions that you too indulged in the taste of human flesh. Your head was against his shoulder as you watched the fireflies dance in the distance, taking in each others peace when you felt Alastor stiffen.

You were pulling your head back to ask what was the matter when you felt it, a scorching, red hot, searing pain in your shoulder. Your hand flies to your shoulder as a scream is ripping from your throat. Alastor's eyes widen and for the first time in a long time he feels terror make its way into his heart.

You, his love, had been shot by a clumsy hunter who had mistaken the two of you for a pair of bobcats out of all things.

You hunched over, eyes full of tears as you even try to process of what happened when a second shot rings out, this one hitting your torso.

Alastor was furious, quickly confronting the hunter who had yet to realize that he had infant shot a person. All you could hear was the hunters scream as Alastor quite literally ripped him apart with his blade.

He first cut the tendons in the hunters legs so he couldn't run, then sliced the ones in his hands so he can't fight back. Then he stabbed and stabbed and stabbed and stabbed, stopping only after he had plunged his blade between the fools eyes and twisted it.

By the time he had finished with the hunter he turned to you. Quickly going down to you he held you in his arms. His hands were shaking and he was covered in both your blood and the hunters blood.

You were losing blood fast and you both knew it.

"I should have known better than to call you out tonight-"

"Oh hush up love"

You cut him off. You didn't want him blaming himself for your death. You knew you were going to die when you felt your fingers starting to tingle from blood loss.

Alastor gripped your face with one of his hands,

"My dear, I fear that if you're gone I won't be able to hold back. I may just tear this place apart."

Alastor choked out, feeling tears well in his eyes. You took a shaking breath, leaning into his touch.

"Then tear the world apart if you so desire. Just as long as you promise to meet me again someday"

Alastor nodded his head, his heart breaking in two as your voice became weaker and weaker.

"I love you Alastor"

You reached a hand up to his cheek, rubbing it gently.

"I love you too (y/n)"

Upon hearing such words you know that your body won't be long for this world. You let a gentle smile rest upon your lips, pulling his cheek weakly in an attempt for him to do the same.

He gets the message and forces himself to smile as tears rundown his cheeks. With one last breath your eyes flutter shut, your hand slipping from his face and your soul plummeting straight down to hell.

He holds your body close and sobs. The smile never leaving his face as he does. He sits back up, packing up the picnic and stuffing it all in the basket, blanket it and all. He pushes his arm through the loop of the basket so he can pick up your lifeless body.

He makes his way back to your shared cabin walking through the bayou as he didn't want anyone thinking he had killed you, his precious lover.

He knew he would have to give you the best burial money could buy, so he did just that. Your tombstone was made of marble, your name engraved as "(y/n) Hartfelt".

The day he buried you was one of the worst days of his life, right up when he had buried his mother. He visited your grave daily, telling you about his day. His never stopped grieving.

Fall of 1933

Alastor had been shot burying a body. He had gotten sloppy after your death, his hunts becoming more erratic as he worked through his loss. A hunter had mistaken him for a deer.

First his love had been mistaken for a bobcat and now him a deer, how fate has a way of working.

He welcomed his death, being found with a smile etched on his face for he knew that he could finally reunite with his lover as his soul plummeted down to hell.

He had a matching tombstone to yours, it being placed in the grave yard next to yours. As his coffin was lowered down into the ground and the dirt piled on, he rest easy.

As the two of you could finally be reunited,

Six feet under the stars



[michaelsfavgirl]

not like the movies

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: it's a cliché love story isn't it? The global superstar and a die hard fan who manages to catch her idol's attention during a concert. it's that simple, right?....right?

Warning: none

Word Count: 2.1k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: I changed the req a bit, put a little twist on this trope to make it more interesting. I hope you like it. :)

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

“Is the mic working tonight?" Michael asks Frank DiLeo, his manager. his eyes sparkle with mischief as they walk towards the wings, closer to the stage.

Frank chuckles, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "God, Mike, You'll never let us live that down, will you?"

Michael throws his head back in laughter, recalling a not-so-distant memory when the crew accidentally messed with the tech. “You guys cut off my mic during she’s out of my life! I had to fake cry to trick the fans into thinking all that was a part of the show.”

Frank, shaking his head in slight embarrassment, adds, "We learned our lesson that night. It won't happen again."

"Of course, it won't. Or else, I’ll cut your check in half.” Michael says with a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. As much as Frank likes to have some form of authority over Michael as his manager he’s still not the one who calls the shots. 

Frank's expression shifts from amusement to a momentary flicker of concern. "You wouldn't..." he says as his voice trembles. 

Michael bursts into laughter, the carefree sound echoing through the backstage corridors. "Just kidding, Frank. Can't you take a joke?"

Relieved, Frank lets out a chuckle, feigning a scowl. "You know, you give me a heart attack every time you say something like that."

Michael, still grinning, pats Frank on the back. "Come on, you know I wouldn't mess with your money."

As he sees his manager’s face relax Michael can’t help but tease him again. "Or would I?" he says as he leans down slightly to Frank’s height, watching Frank's face momentarily shift from relief to uncertainty again. Before he can respond, Michael strides onto the stage, leaving Frank bemused, with his jaw on the floor. 

As Michael smoothly transitions between his iconic songs, the energy in the stadium is electric. The sea of fans undulates with excitement, but amid the frenzy, his attention is inexplicably drawn to a girl in the front row. 

The second his eyes land on her he feels like he’s in a trance of some sort. There's an allure about her, something that tugs at the edges of Michael's consciousness. It's not just the way she sways to the beat or how her eyes light up with each note; it's an inexplicable connection that he can't shake off. Lost in the spell of her presence, he fumbles the lyrics of a verse, drawing giggles from the audience. 

Michael Jackson, the perfectionist, is momentarily thrown off, a rare slip in his otherwise flawless performance.

Shaking his head to clear the distraction, he attempts to refocus. Yet, as the music continues, his gaze involuntarily drifts back to her. It's a puzzle, a mystery that unravels with each passing song. Why does she captivate him so? Why does she stand out in a crowd that's usually a sea of screaming adoration?

The realization dawns on him—she's different. Amidst the fervor of fans who've camped out for days, who've screamed themselves hoarse, in contrast she remains remarkably composed. She’s not crying, screaming, or fainting. Her demeanor is an enigma. It's not that she's unaffected; on the contrary, she radiates genuine enjoyment, but there's a serenity to her reactions that sets her apart.

Michael can't help but wonder. He knows the type of fans who are usually in the front row. They tend to be the wildest, most infatuated with him, having created an imaginary world in their heads where they’re in a romantic relationship with him. 

But her? She doesn't seem like that at all. 

How strange.

As he moves from one hit to another, the questions linger in his mind. His eyes continue to find her in the crowd, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. There's an intrigue. He thought he knew his fans inside out—their dedication, their unbridled passion. Yet, she challenges his assumptions.

Midway through his performance, Michael decides to playfully engage with the mysterious woman in the front row. He winks at her, not once but a few times, expecting a typical fan reaction—screams, swoons, or at the very least, a blush. To his surprise, all he receives in return is a serene smile. Just a smile.

The bewilderment creeps into Michael's expression. What's going on here? Is she immune to his legendary charm or something? Huh, he’d never in a million years admit it, but he feels his ego deflate a little. 

Refusing to be discouraged, he takes it up a notch. He points directly at her, a playful challenge in his eyes. Surely, this will elicit a different response right? But no, she remains composed, smiling and silently mouthing the lyrics. This is unheard of for Michael, and he can't shake off the perplexity. 

Jesus, what is she doing to him?

Unable to wait any longer, during a break where the band continues to play to give Michael a moment to breathe, he rushes backstage to his manager, Frank. He grabs onto Frank's shoulders tightly which surprises him. 

“Look, you see that girl over there? No, not her, on the left, her. Bring her to me after the show, okay?” The urgency in his voice is palpable as he hastily says, instructing Frank to bring the mysterious woman to his dressing room after the show. Frank, usually the composed one, is taken aback by his client's sudden insistence.

"What's gotten into you, Michael?" Frank asks, trying to make sense of the unusual request.

Michael, in no mood for delays, shakes Frank's shoulders, emphasizing the urgency. "Just get her here, Frank. It's important. You got that?"

Frank, still a bit shocked by the unexpected outburst, manages to nod in agreement. He watches as Michael walks away, leaving him to process what’s just happened.

The final notes of the last song resonate through the stadium as Michael wraps up his performance. The crowd roars with applause, and Michael, still riding the high of the show, takes a moment to thank his fans. "Thank you, I love you all," he declares, his eyes scanning the audience one last time. 

In that fleeting moment, his gaze lingers on the mysterious woman in the front row. Without giving it another thought, Michael dashes backstage, not even sparing a moment for his manager, Frank Dileo. He quickly instructs Frank to bring the woman to his dressing room and disappears, leaving Frank with his jaw on the floor.

After a refreshing shower, Michael reenters his dressing room, his mind buzzing with anticipation, heart beating unbelievably fast. And there she is, the enchanting woman who has captured his attention. Her back is turned to him as she admires the tour costumes on the rack, gently tracing the metal pieces with her fingers. Before Michael can utter a word, she turns around, her eyes meeting his. 

With the most angelic smile, she introduces herself shyly, “oh, uh, hello, i’m y/n. Someone told me to come to your dressing room, I swear I'm not a crazy fan.” As her sweet, slightly trembling voice fills the room, Michael feels a sensation akin to his legs turning into jelly. 

“I know don’t worry” he reassures her with a gentle smile, trying to keep his excitement in check. 

“I asked them to bring you here”

“Oh…do you often bring your fans here?” she asks with a little smile on her face, teasing him. 

Michael's eyes widen slightly, realizing how his previous statement sounded. “No, no, I’m not like that.” He defends himself. 

“Please y/n take a seat.” he gestures to the cozy couch. Her name feels familiar on his tongue, unfortunately, he cannot remember from where so he lets the thought go.

Casual banter flows initially, words revolving around music, the pulsating rhythm of the crowd, and the enchanting atmosphere that wraps around every live performance. Michael can't help but be drawn to the woman's composure, a serenity that stands out amid the usual fervor of his adoring fans.

As the conversation meanders through the afterglow of the show, the woman pivots with a sudden turn, shifting gears towards more personal territory. "How do you deal with all the relentless media during the tour?" Her question hangs in the air, curiosity etched in her eyes.

A contemplative sigh escapes Michael's lips, the weight of the question temporarily lifting from his shoulders. "It can be daunting," he begins, "But the music, the fans, that's what keeps me going."

Her eyes linger on his face, searching for something more profound beneath the surface. Unsatisfied with his somewhat evasive response, she persists, "But what specifically bothers you? There must be something that digs deeper."

Michael hesitates, a brief moment of vulnerability flickering in his eyes before he decides to share, "The…the rumors about me bleaching my skin. It's hurtful, and it affects me more than people realize."

“Do you though?” 

His eyes furrow, a mix of annoyance and anger flickering across his face. The probing nature of her questions stirs a cautious wariness within him.

She notices this and leans in, "You're so misunderstood, I just want to know the real you."

Silence hangs between them for a moment. Michael, caught in the whirlwind of emotions, contemplates the woman before him. Is she just a genuine fan seeking connection, or does she harbor ulterior motives beneath her calm exterior?

Gazing into her eyes, his hungry desire to be vulnerable and open his heart to some outweighs his concern. "No," he responds firmly, the word resonating with a quiet strength. "I don't bleach my skin. The rumors are just that—rumors."

Nodding in compassion she gently lays her warm palm on top of his in a soothing manner, this makes michaels senses spike. 

"I hope I haven't crossed any boundaries," she offers apologetically, her eyes reflecting a genuine concern for a split second.

He looks at her with a hint of confusion, not quite grasping what she means. "No, no it’s…fine." he says.

Taking a moment to choose her words carefully, she ventures into more personal territory. "I mean, after what happened... Do you feel lonely on tour?" The cryptic nature of her question leaves Michael momentarily puzzled.

"What do you mean, 'after what happened'?" he inquires, eyebrows furrowing inquisitively.

She takes a deep breath, her gaze steady. "In the media, you know the whole Brooke Shields turning down your proposal. It must be difficult for you."

Michael's sigh echoes through the room as he dispels the misconception. "Brooke never never said no because I never proposed," he states, a touch of exasperation in his voice. "That was just a story she made up to get attention for her new movie."

As Michael clarifies the misinformation, the woman subtly slips her hand into her handbag, a movement that goes unnoticed by him. Maintaining an air of compassion, she continues, "It must be tough for you, dealing with the constant scrutiny."

"Yeah, it gets hard sometimes," he admits, a weight apparent in his words. "She’s been leeching off me, leading me on since we met." he says and feels guilt creeping up on him, but he’s been bottling up his emotions for so long he can’t help but vent.

Her expression remains composed, her eyes attentive. "I’m sorry you have to go through that Michael," she commiserates, though the glint in her eyes suggests a hidden agenda.

Michael, relieved to share his burden, continues, "I just want someone who's genuine, can’t you understand that girl? Someone who understands me for me, not for the image they've built in their mind."

As the admission hangs in the air, the woman's hand tightens around an object in her bag, a subtle signal of her concealed intentions. 

After a conversation, well, more like Michael opening his heart while she nodded, the peculiar woman stands up abruptly and straightens the creases on her clothes. She grabs the doorknob and turns to face him.

“I hope you won’t be too surprised when you see yourself in the papers tomorrow morning Mr. Jackson” she says with one foot out the door.

Michael cocks his head to the side and hums in confusion, why is she speaking so formally all of a sudden. “What do you mean?” 

“Haven’t you read that article about Princess Diana?” 

Before Michael can open his mouth she’s already left the room and shut the door behind her. 

Panicking slightly he rushes to the coffee table and gets a hold of the newspaper from last week. He swiftly flips through the pages until he stumbles upon the tabloid junk he’d read on a plane half asleep. The title reads:

“IS PRINCESS DIANA A MASTER MANIPULATOR?”

          — By y/n y/l

Fuck, she’s a journalist. He  should’ve guessed from the get go. She was a little odd but he brushed it off as her being shy and awkward, and now look at what he’s gotten himself into. 

© michaelsfavgirl 2024

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