#they’re so cute gimme

[tahdashi]

marius and i would be such good cat parents

[polydamnory]

Counting down the days till we finally hear Porter tell Treasure he loves them

[thatoneautisticfnaffan]

Greg has accidentally called Dare "Dad" at some point. That is canon, don’t try to tell me it isn’t because it’s 100% canon. It happened and I will not be told otherwise.

[valiantroyalty]

I think one of my most underrated ships is Jack x Pocahontas.

[thinkinonsense]

forgive if it’s a bit scatterbrained but hear me out… some sort of reverse corruption w old man!logan >///< i just feel like he won’t be the type of guy who’d immediately be into having a thing w young!reader. i feel like he won’t even take it seriously at first or there’s def gonna be more resistance from him, he’d probably feel initially repulsed by the idea of even beginning to think of them that way given how young they are. but reader is bold bold, so they’re gonna keep pushing and pushing until they’ve got him where they want him. but even if she’s practically sinking down on him, logan is still probably gonna be like “fuck’s wrong with you, huh? old enough to be your fucking grandfather, kid. c’mon, you don’t really want this.”

poor old man’s just too decent for his own good :(

old man!logan x young bold fem!reader *mdni

logan couldn't stand you. how young and ambitious you were; how you couldn't just take no as a fuckin' answer. you thought it was cute but logan found it rather obnoxious. you were persistent with your attraction towards the older man; frequenting the only bar in town that logan was still welcomed in.

"what are we drinking tonight, lo?" your voice was a siren song that he wished he could turn off.

"whiskey." he mumbles against the glass.

the mean glare he sent your way would've made anyone else run in fear, but not you. instead smiling up at him with bambi eyes. at first, logan thought you were just dumb, not picking up on his signals but as it turned out, you're just stubborn.

every friday night, you sat on the stool next to him. you should've been flirting with guys your age by the pool table but no, you would rather get rejected by the old man who drinks alone. at one point even the bartenders started to think that you two were together which logan quickly shut down.

"c'mon, at least let me pretend that i'm yours," you whine, swirling around your second fruity drink tonight.

"you don't want to 'be mine', kid," he said in a stern voice, similar to one you would use on a child who won't behave.

"aaand...why not?" you ask him, crossing your arms and already getting pissy. "don't gimme that bullshit about you being 'too old' either."

"has anyone ever told you that you're-"

"pretty? hilarious? tight? yeah, a few times actually."

logan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. he tries to give you some sympathy but there's only so many times that you can burn your hand on the stove until you learn your lesson.

"look, cherry..." logan sets his glass down. you adored when he called you, cherry because that meant he was paying attention to you and what you drank, always having to top it off with a cherry. "i'm probably your grandfather's age-"

"don't care." you interrupt him, leaning forward to stare into his eyes and run a hand through his hair. "your grey hair is so hot, lo. should let me pull on it sometime."

logan was finding it more difficult to resist you. almost letting out a groan when you pull slightly. logan could smell your arousal forming; clouding his vision.

"why don't you throw your panties in someone else's direction, huh? i'm sure those boys over there wouldn't mind." logan snarls, getting fed up with your attitude.

it wasn't that he didn't find you attractive, quite the opposite really. maybe if he was younger or you were older then he wouldn't mind your flirty personality so much but that's not the way that the world works. logan is -whether or not he wants to admit it- old and he didn't have time to put up with your whiney shit.

"okay." you shrug, getting up from the barstool.

logan doesn't believe that you'll actually go talk to those boys. in one minute your ass will be back here annoying him. he was sure of it.

then ten minutes passed and giggles were still falling from your lips. nothing the guys said was actually funny but you played it up to look better. there was one guy who you actually didn't mind talking to; both of you went to the same college and shared the same major. for a second, you'd completely forgotten about the man burning holes into your side.

the two of you talked for a while, exchanging stories while you leaned against the pool table in your tiny cut-off shorts. logan watched those boys gawk at you; staring everywhere but your face.

"i know right! her class was horrible! all she did was-" your words fell short when someone grabbed your upper arm, attempting to pull you away from the guy, who you think his name was josh, or john, or jake? you couldn't really remember and you definitely didn't care.

"c'mon kid, i'll give you a ride home." logan growled in your ear.

"oh, it's okay!" you chirp like a little bird at him. "think i'll find another way home tonight."

it's just a facade, logan told himself. you were just trying to prove a point. always stubborn.

"i'm not messing 'round, kid-"

"leave her alone, old man." the kid interrupted, giving logan a push.

logan snarls, about to teach this boy a lesson but you are faster; heel-kicking him in the nuts. the boy hunched over, allowing you to be ear level with him.

"fuck off." you spit, angrily before walking away.

logan looked at you completely dumbfounded. he had no other choice than to follow you blindly outside of the bar. he found you leaning against his truck; under the dim street light, logan would've misplaced you for some angelic figure.

"mind takin' me home, lo?" you ask him, for once not acting like some horny little rabbit towards him.

he nods, fishing out his keys. you give him directions to your apartment. the silence in the car makes you think logan's mad at you for real this time. you pushed it too far, embarrassing him and yourself this time. logan wasn't this dirty old perv who would actually give you the time of day, and maybe it was time for you to face that reality.

"i just wanted to say sorry for everything." your voice is low and quiet. afraid logan won't even acknowledge you. "i know that i should've left you alone a long time ago. you wouldn't want someone like me anyway-"

the car came to a dead halt in the driveway. logan turns to face you and you fear the worst; afraid he will yell at you.

"do you seriously think i wouldn't want you?" he asks. "you haven't left my mind since the day we bumped into each other at the bar and i spilled my whisky down your shirt. remember that, cherry?"

you nod, carefully. that day was imprinted in your mind. your friends and you were celebrating your birthday when logan bumped into you at the bar on accident. he frantically apologized for ruining your white shirt which you suggested for him to lick you clean. it had been so long since someone had flirted with him that he didn't know how to react.

"i'd never seen someone look so pretty and sticky at the same time." logan's hand gently caresses your cheek.

"could've seen it more often if you had fucked me like i wish you would've." the words fall out without pressure, making logan smirk. no matter how much you tried, you were desperate for him.

"you've got one dirty fuckin' mouth, cherry."

"it gets dirtier than that."

"hmm... don't know if that's possible."

"i could show you if you like."

the offer hangs hot in the truck. logan leans back into his seat, asking for forgiveness on what he's about to do. three light taps on his thigh and you crawl right into it.

"atta fuckin' girl, cherry." he groans as you grind against his crotch and bite on his neck.

"also for the record, the only person i want to have my panties is you, logan." you purred in his ear, referring back to your earlier conversation at the bar.

"i know, sweetheart. i know." he chuckles, watching you kick off your shorts and underwear.

once your back in his lap, you unbuckle his belt and wait eagerly for him to have his way with you. yet, logan doesn't offer anything.

"if you want to fuck an old man like me then you need to get used to doin' all the work, cherry." he says, half-joking. "can't keep up with an eager little thing like you."

you knew his game. to scare you off by acting like an asshole but you didn't mind doing the work to get what you want.

"fine with me." you smile, hands inching towards the glasses that hang on his button-down. "can't forget these, want you to see what you do to me."

logan groaned when you pulled him out of his pants, pumping him a few times before aligning him to your entrance. he was a bit bigger than you would've guessed, only making you wetter. just as you are about to sink down onto him, logan stops you, holding your hips in the air.

"fuck's wrong with you, cherry? you still want this, huh?" he taunts you, only getting a whine from you in response. "such a desperate little thing."

"p-p-please, logan." your hips wiggle against his tight grip. "want you... need you."

without another word, he lowers you down onto his length. both of you moan at the adjustment. your nails claw at logan's shoulders and you feel him twitch inside of you at the pain.

"happy now?" logan groaned, watching you bounce up and down on your own. his hands stayed on your waist, squeezing at the fat of your hips. "got what you fuckin' wanted."

"mhm..." you nod along dumbly agreeing to whatever he says. too busy trying to get his white button-down off of him. frustrated, you break open all the buttons.

once his chest was exposed, you litter it with kisses and dark bruises. for the first time, logan was happy that his healing abilities were slowing down so now he can admire your artwork longer. you grab both of his giant palms bringing one hand to your chest and taking the other thumb into your mouth, licking the pad of it before moving it down to your clit. tracing circles in a way that made your head fall back with your mouth wide open.

"do you always get this wet for older men or is it just for me, sweetheart?" logan asked, fist full of your hair.

"j-just you, lo..." you gasp.

logan's lips found your jaw, kissing up to your chin before capturing your lips. he wasn't a fan of fruity drinks but he loved the taste they left in your mouth. your backs against the wheel lazily and logan can tell that your orgasm is approaching.

"don't give up now, cherry." he teased. "you were doing so good, being a perfect little slut in my lap. what happened to her?"

you were too fucked out to say anything back and he knew it. logan finally took pity on you and started pistoling into you, listening to every pretty curse word that fell from your trembling lips.

"where do you want me, sweetheart?" logan grunts in your ear, pulling at the lobe as you come down from your high.

"inside, please."

that's all logan needed to hear to spill inside of you. the warmth indescribably flooded you. the two of you collapse in each other's arms, collecting yourself for a few minutes.

"told you, i'm a good fuck." you told him, looking up at him with messy hair and an unapologetic smile.

"didn't doubt you," he says, mirroring your smile as he moves some pieces of hair from your forehead. maybe logan could see you being a permanent person in his life.

"and to think..." your words drift off as you start to move again, feeling him get hard again inside of you. "we are just getting started."

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

18+MNDI

Thinking about Frat!Rafe and his frat bros having a car wash, not because they need money, no, it’s all just one big real life thirst trap. Their rich dad’s fund the frat so they’re absolutely going to just use the money on more beer. He begs you to come by because you’re “the only girl he wants to see there” and it doesn’t hurt that he can flex his hot girlfriend and the nice car he bought you on his bros.

“Rafe, you literally took my car through the car wash yesterday.”

“So? Don’t you wanna see me all soapy and wet, baby?”

So of course you end up going. You put on a slutty little outfit because if you’re going to go, you’re going to look hot. When you pull up next to him he smirks at you, his hair is slicked back from being wet, and his bare chest is glistening in the sun, little droplets of soap and water dripping down his abdomen. He runs over to your little car, leaning down to look at you, tapping his finger on your window. You roll your eyes as you roll it down.

“There’s my girl, gimme kiss.” He has to practically fold himself in half to push his head into the window, he takes your face in his hands and presses his lips against yours. When he pulls back, eyes roam the little pink top that accentuates your tits perfectly and the matching little pink skirt that’s ridden up your thighs while you were driving. “Damn baby, this all for me?”

“Always for you, daddy. Now chop, chop, wash my car.” You snap your fingers at him, sending him a wink before rolling your window up.

And wash your car he does. He makes a whole scene of it, pressing his swim trunk covered cock against the drivers window while he soaps up the roof, laying practically his whole body across your windshield, his soap slick abs on full display against the glass. He draws little hearts in the soap, blowing you kisses, sending you those fucking smirks that drive you crazy. When he’s done, he pulls open your door, practically ripping you from the drivers seat.

“You didn’t think I was gonna let you come here and not get my hands on you, did you?” One of his large hands laces through your hair while the other grabs your hip, pressing your back against your wet car before crashing his lips against yours. It’s a hungry kiss, all tongues and teeth. His brothers whoop and cheer around you but you don’t even care because he feels so good. “Now chop, chop, baby, run along. I’ll see your cute little ass later.”

He pats your ass twice before pulling away from you, opening your door for you and walking away, leaving you breathless and wet in more ways than one.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hiiiiiiii

Could you please do reader x batboys

The reader gives a surprise kiss while smooshing their cheeks like they’re so kissable. —- The batboys could be rambling or whatever works for you writer.

Dick was going on about something that you had forgotten about as you soon found yourself occupied by how cute his every expression was while telling the story, so much so to the point it was hard to contain just how much it had effected you.

You couldn’t help it as everything within your body urged you forward to squish his cheeks until his lips were puckered like a fish with a hand before planting a series of kisses to his lips and pulling away to a wide eyed Dick.

‘What was that?’ He asks incoherently from your hand squishing his cheeks.

You shrug, unable to find any logic to any of your actions other than wanting to shut him up with a kiss. ‘You were being adorable so I kissed you.’

‘You could’ve just asked for a kiss instead of stealing one, how shameless of you babe.’ He jokes as he rubs his cheeks after you let them go, unable to hide his smile at your spontaneity.

‘Says the one who loves it whenever I kiss him out of the blue and practically begs me to do it again.’ You retorted, recalling the time where Dick would follow you like a lost puppy after kissing him when he came back injured from a night of long patrol, you genuinely thought you were going to loose him and kissed him in the heat of the moment out of fear.

Dick huffs as he leaned himself into you and puckering his lips. ‘Gimme another kiss.’

‘No.’ You said.

‘Please.’

‘No.’

‘Stop being mean and withholding my kisses privileges and gimme.’ Dick groaned, pushing his face closer to yours as you chuckled at his goofy attempts.

‘Fine, I guess I can give you another kiss.’ You sighed playfully as you pressed another couple kisses to his lips, falling for Dick’s trap as he was quick to place a hand to the back of your head to keep your lips on his, just as his other hand sneaked to your waist and pull you onto his lap, smiling into your lips in pride.

Jason was telling you about the many, many stories he had regarding himself and Roy whenever they went on patrol together, but you had found yourself lost in the movement of his lips and taking notice of how plush yet slightly chapped they were, yet to you his lips were perfect non the less.

You were very aware of how attached to the hip Jason and Roy were from the times where you were greeted home by both men talking up a storm in the kitchen and laughing as they shared a drink or two.

So you weren’t surprised that at the height of their boredom they would do something stupid or borderline reckless to alleviate said boredom, if anything it was expected at this point but that didn’t meant you wanted either of them to come to harm, which meant that you oftentimes acted as their medic for these situations.

So while Jason was mid sentence you reached a hand to squish his cheeks and and kissed him on the lips before pulling away, rendering him speechless as he blinked once, twice and three times as though he were trying to come to terms with what had just happened.

‘Did-did you just kiss me while I was in the middle of trying to tell a story?’ He’d ask.

‘Yes, yes I did because you were being cute.’ You replied and Jason couldn’t help but laugh as he pulled you in close by the waist and resting his head against your forehead.

‘Do you not feel guilty of your crime?’ He asks in a low voice, his pretty eyes occasionally glancing towards your lips, causing a familiar warmth to flood throughout you.

‘No, in fact I’d do it again if given the chance.’ You told him truthfully.

Jason raised a brow. ‘Oh really? Would you then care to steal another kiss from me right here right now?’

‘It’s not stealing when the other person is asking me to kiss him while looking like he wants to kiss me himself.’ You said, seeing the way that he was struggling in holding himself back from acting on his wants and needs for confirmation that you wanted him to kiss you. While you loved the fact that Jason always asked for permission to kiss you, you sometimes wished that he’d just kiss you without a second thought like he had on several occasions, for you’d always say yes whenever it came to Jason.

Jason didn’t say anything but his hands on your waist tightened and you knew he was growing desperate for that kiss and so you squeezed his biceps and leaned in close to his face and said. ‘Take what you want and don’t feel guilty about it Jason, just kiss me already.’

Jason didn’t need to be told twice as within seconds his lips were on yours and everything in your life felt right and perfect the moment his lips touched yours, something you’ve jokingly called the Jason effect in the past, but it couldn’t be truer in this moment as you pressed yourself further into him and allowed yourself to sink into the sweet kiss.

[dira333]

This Is Me Trying - Kageyama x Reader

there's one line missing that I'd have loved to include but I am still pretty okay with how this turned out instead.

Tagging: @alienaiver for helping, @screamin-abt-haikyuu and @lees-chaotic-brain for Haikyuu

“Where’s Kageyama?”

The rest of the team turns at Hinata’s question, but their first-year setter is nowhere to be seen. 

“Not this again,” Daichi mutters in frustration, thinking back to Hinata’s missing shoes the day before. “We’ve got twenty minutes before our next game. I want us to all go in teams. Hinata, you’re with me. I cannot have you get lost as well.”

- Meanwhile -

“How long have you been playing volleyball? Who taught you? How long have you been a setter? How do you train? Do you get along with your team members? Have you ever hit a wall?”

“Huh?” You turn to the guy creeping up behind you, a bag clutched in his hands as he stares you down. Your teammates are sending both of you curious looks and you can tell that your Captain is just a second away from interfering.

“Can I help you?” You ask, surprised when he flinches away, stuttering. 

“I- am… I am Kageyama Tobio.” He bows so abruptly and so deeply that you fear for his spine. “I saw you play yesterday.”

“Ah?” You blink. “What school are you from?”

“Karasuno.”

“Oh,” you blink again. “I saw you play as well. You’re their setter. What year are you in?”

“First. Your serve-”

“Alright, alright.” You pull him to the side by his arm and wave at your Captain before she can do something more drastic. “I have to say your drive is admirable, but you’re not the first person to ask for my secrets. Why would I tell you?”

Kageyama considers that for a second, brows furrowing. He’s really not good at making his face work for him. It might look cute though, if he relaxed a little. 

“I wanna stay on the court the longest,” he declares, face set in a scowl that could turn milk sour.”

“Again, you’re not the only one. You gotta impress me a little more, Kageyama-kun.” You snip two fingers against his temple, watch him almost short-circuit at the sensation.

To your surprise, Kageyama bows again.

“I want to spend more time playing with this team. I am not good with people. You are good with people. I need to learn more.”

“Fine,” you tell him after a second. “Gimme your phone.”

He doesn’t stop watching you as you type in your number. “If you win today as well, you can send me details about your play. Don’t forget to tell me where you’re staying. I’ll come by and we’ll talk about it, okay? Can’t promise it will help, though.”

“Kageyama!” Someone yells at that moment, and he turns to find two guys waving at him. One of them has a shaved head, the other has a bleached strand of hair sticking up like a lightning strike.

“Good luck,” you tell him, patting his shoulder. Kageyama leaves with one last look back at you.

“You’re in trouble!” Shaved head sings as he joins them. “Daichi’s mad as hell, looking for you. All because of a cute girl?”

“I didn’t- She isn’t-” He looks back as if to check, blushing bright red when he spots you still looking at him. “I wanted to know more about her technique, that’s all.”

Both guys laugh loudly. “You really are something else, Kageyama.” The guy with the Lighting Strike declares and then they’re gone.

“Why did you give him your number?” Your libero asks when you join the team again. “Aren’t you afraid he’s going to murder you for your skin?”

“No,” You laugh softly. “He reminded me of someone, that’s all.”

Karasuno wins. So do you. 

No one pays you any mind when you slip out of the hotel you’re staying in, jogging down the streets to where Kageyama’s team is staying.

“Oh,” Shaved Head spots you at the front door. “You’re the cute girl Kageyama found.”

“I am,” you grin, “I’m looking for him. Is he around?”

“Kageyama!” He hollers down the hallway. “Uh, he’s in the bathroom, I think. I’m Tanaka by the way. What team are you playing in?”

“Niiyama,” you explain and his eyes light up. “No way, you’re playing with Kanoka.”

“Exactly. You know her?”

“Yeah, we’re childhood besties. So, you won today, right?”

“Yep. Don’t know if she told you, but we’re thinking about making Kanoka Captain next year.”

“You are. Wow. Does she know alrea-” “I’m here!” Kageyama declares from the door, wet hair sticking to his flushed face. 

“Oh, you showered already?” You ask, “I thought we could do a run-”

“Right away,” Kageyama declares, already slipping into the shoes by the door.

“Forget it, hotshot,” you put a hand on his shoulders and drag him away, “not when your hair is still wet. You’re going to get a cold. It’s fine, it’s fine, we can still work without running around.”

And you do. Even though you have to pretend you don’t notice every single member of his team walking by, peeking into the little lobby, trying to catch parts of your conversation with him.

Kageyama, however, will not let himself get distracted. He’s sucking up every word you say and, as soon as you’ve figured out how he thinks, is able to discuss ideas with you at an impressive rate.

“So…” You lean back a little after almost an hour, ignoring the little red-haired guy who’s sitting at the door, listening in. “What are your plans? Do you want to become Captain in your Third Year? Make it to Nationals every Year? Play professionally after High School or go to College first?”

“I don’t have good grades,” Kageyama points out. “I just want to stay on Court for as long as possible. Play my best.”

“Hmmm,” you get up. “Tell you what. You have my number. Make it through these Nationals and go back home. Let me know how you’re feeling next school year, okay?”

“Okay.” He shakes your hand and bows deeply, staying far too long in the open doorway, looking after you as you leave.

You don’t feel you’ve done a lot for him today. You just listened, explained a few things, told him about your perspective.

But he’s acting like you’ve changed his world and you wonder if you did. And if so, in what way…

Kageyama’s sleeping on your bedroom floor.

Your mother would throw a fit if she knew, but she’s gone for the weekend and Kageyama took the three-hour train ride in stride just to spend a weekend training with you.

College Volleyball isn’t much different from High School Volleyball, except for the harsher course load. 

He’d been updating you weekly with the teams and his own progress, updates coming in more often when it turned out that the team had problems adapting to the new Captain, or rather, the lack of their old. 

“You miss Sugawara,” you point out only half an hour after he’s arrived. 

He looks surprised at first, but then easily gives in.

“I’m still not good at connecting with my teammates.”

“Have you tried the exercises that I gave you?”

He scowls and you laugh. “Come on, Kageyama, I know you’re better than that. Practice with me, then.”

Stiffly, he turns his head. “How are you doing lately?”

You laugh again, louder this time. “You’ve got to work on your expressions, but I’m doing okay, I guess. I don’t have that much time for training because of College, so I feel like I’m falling behind.”

Kageyama falls quiet and you nudge your elbow into his side.

“This is your chance to say ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Can I do something for you?’”

“Why did you go to College if it takes away time from playing Volleyball?” He asks instead and you stop, surprised by his question.

“Because I want something to fall back on if I can’t make it in Volleyball. What if I get hurt? What if I no longer want to play?”

Kageyama scowls. “Why would you want to stop playing?”

“What are you going to do when you’re too old to play professionally?” You ask back and he falls quiet. For the remainder of your run, he’s unreachable to you. Whatever he’s thinking about, he’s far, far away.

“What am I supposed to do instead?” He asks eventually, bangs hiding his eyes.

You’re stretching and he follows your movements, intent on copying you, as usual. As if you have all the answers in the world.

“Tell me about your Childhood, Tobio,” you ask instead.

That’s how you end up, him sleeping on your bedroom floor and you craving nothing more than to pick him up and hug him so tight that all the loneliness drains out of him.

You’re no stranger to grief, but it’s so different when you have to watch someone you care about in its clutches.

Karasuno doesn’t make it to the Nationals in their second year. Tobio still gets invited to this Year’s Youth Camp and you make sure to take that weekend off, taking the same train so you can sit next to him for three of his eight-hour ride, listening to him ramble on about school, Hinata, Volleyball. 

“You’re going to do great,” you tell him, wondering how it happened that you’re now feeling this way. As if he punctured your heart and crawled inside, making it his home without realizing it.

Third-Year Tobio is a heartbreaker. 

He tells you about the confessions he gets with the naivety of someone much younger. Every single time you have to force yourself to ask “And what did you answer?” only to hear that he’s declined, yet again.

You wonder what he’s thinking of you. You’re still a Star Setter, but do you have anything left to teach him? You think Sugawara did a way better job at that anyway. 

But he still makes the three-hour ride at least once every two months, sleeping on your bedroom floor when your mom is away for the weekend. 

One time you take his hand in a crowded train station and he doesn’t let go.

If only you could let yourself have this. 

But does he even think about you that way?

X

“Sugawara-senpai?” Kageyama asks, phone pressed hard against his ear. “What do you wear on a sleepover?”

He sits amidst his things, a volleyball in his lap.

“Pajamas, usually. Why do you ask?”

“Even if it’s with a girl?”

Sugawara sounds like he’s choking.

“A sleepover with a girl? Boy, you’re- wait, who are you sleeping at?”

Kageyama says your name with the familiar feeling of pride that comes with it.

He was the one who approached you and he’s the one who still gets to text and call you, visit you even. Not Hinata, who can make everyone like him, or Tsukishima, who’s somehow getting love confessions even though he’s an ass. 

“Well, it depends… on what you’ve already done together.”

“Done together?” Kageyama furrows his brows. “We’ve analyzed our games. And I get to play with her friends sometimes.”

“Kageyama.” Sugawara’s voice is serious. “I need to ask you this. Why are you sleeping over?”

“Because she lives far away and I can’t make both treks in one day.”

“I get that, but… why are you visiting her anyway? Just to get more tips?”

Kageyama halts for a second. “I… don’t know.”

“Mhm. Thought so. You know, most boys sleeping over at girls' houses have more than just Volleyball tips in mind.”

“She’s giving me tips on how to get along with my teammates as well,” He explains, but Sugawara just chuckles low in his throat.

“That’s not what I meant. I guess you know what it’s going to look like, right? That’s why you’re asking what to wear?”

Kageyama digs his knees into the floor of his room and bits down on his lip but the words still tumble out.

“I’ve never been on a sleepover before. One that’s not the whole team sleeping somewhere, I mean. I didn’t want to ask Hinata because he’s got so many friends and he might think-”

“Ah…” Sugawara interrupts him. “I get it. Don’t worry. We’ll go over this like we did with the topic of Smalltalk, okay? Basic steps first, then some finer things. Would that help?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Girl’s rooms look different than boy’s rooms, Kageyama knows.

His sister’s room is filled with pictures of celebrities, make-up, and accessories have driven out anything volleyball-related long ago.

Yachi’s room is colorful, with little designer pieces and cute stationery she likes to collect.

Yours is different altogether.

The prizes you won are proudly displayed, next to a collection of textbooks. There’s a bed and a small closet and you serve him tea on the floor of your room, giggling over the stories he tells from training.

Kageyama likes talking to you. Just like Sugawara, you never mind when his words come out more brash than they should, or when he can’t figure out how to word a question right. You’ve got kind eyes and a soft smile and you touch him more often than other people.

Telling you about his grandfather or his fear of ending up alone again - the words might not come easy, but you handle them gently, like it’s safe to let them rest with you.

You snore a little, he figures out that first night. The softest sound he wants to never forget.

Sleeping over at a friend’s house is something he wants to do again and again, talking low in the darkness, knowing that someone who cares is just a short distance away.

When he has to leave you hug him goodbye. 

For the first time, he thinks he knows why people do it, this seemingly unnecessary ritual of enveloping each other.

For the first time, he thinks about not letting go.

But his train’s going to leave without him and you wave until the train station is out of sight. Kageyama likes to think you waved a little longer. Just because.

“Are you away this weekend, Kageyama?” Has become a regular question. 

Hinata’s no longer pestering him with questions about his private training sessions on the weekend. 

He’s getting better at working with the new First Years and a new invite for the National Youth Camp has him reach for the phone to call you.

He’s more nervous than last time and he wonders if it’s about you, sitting next to him on the train, legs pressed together on the small seats. 

You smell sweet and he wonders if he could hug, just like that, just because. 

Do people do that? Just hug for no reason but to touch? He should ask Sugawara about it.

“You’re going to do great,” you say and he wants to promise that he will, just for you.

But he doesn’t, because that would sound weird, wouldn’t it? 

After all, he’s so much younger than you. 

Do you even think about him in that way? The way he thinks about you?

Your hand fits perfectly in his.

Kageyama knows the taste of your favorite dessert and always has some money saved to buy you a flower or two at the train station before he gets to your house.

Sometimes, when you sleep, you mumble his name and he can hardly make himself fall asleep because he wants to hear it all, every quiet mention, mumble or snore.

You’re real and you like him, still.

“Are you coming?” He asks when they get through the Qualifiers; when he knows he will make it to the Nationals one last time with this team.

“Of course,” you say and his heart leaps into his throat. 

Kageyama almost tells you, then and there, that he thinks this might be love.

But it doesn’t feel right, over the phone like that, so he pulls the words back before they can spill from his lips.

He will tell you, he promises to himself after they win. This time, Karasuno will be the last one standing in Tokyo.

X

“Oh, you’re here as well,” a guy with greyish hair and a beauty mark beneath his eye waves at you, “We’re sitting over here.”

“Do I know you?” You ask, taking the offered seat nonetheless. The guy pouts and his friends laugh.

“I’m Sugawara,” he explains, “Kageyama’s Senpai. These two are Daichi and Asahi, not that you’d recognize them, right?”

You laugh. “No, guilty as charged. I don’t think I remember any names from your team besides Tanaka and Kageyama.”

“Someone called my name?” Tanaka jumps down the last two steps leading to your seats, grinning. “Kiyoko, they’re already here, Babe.” He waits for his girlfriend to take a seat before leaning in. 

“You’re Kageyama’s girlfriend, right?”

“Oh, it’s not- I…” You wave your hands around awkwardly, not knowing what to say. Tanaka laughs.

“Ah, I knew it, I knew it. No way he’s got that much game. But he’s got lots of talent, don’t you think.”

“He does,” you take the offered topic, lament about their Kohai’s talents for over half an hour until the players finally arrive, warming for their first game. More of Karasuno’s former players have gathered around you, as well as a taiko drum group.

Sugawara lets out a shrill whistle using two fingers and most of the Karasuno players look up, obviously used to the signal.

You wave, hoping against hope that Tobio will be able to pick you out of the crowd.

From this distance, it’s hard to tell, but that frown could mean he’s smiling. Sugawara starts to point at you exaggeratedly and you slap his hands away but it’s too late. 

Tobio has already turned away.

He doesn’t play well at the beginning. Everyone notices.

It takes him a while to find his grove but when he does, he does.

Then it’s over and you wish to do nothing more but to run down and hug him. But it’s safer up here, you know, where your heart won’t leap out of your throat.

But then you have to leave, get up, and move, because the Niiyama Girls are playing in the other hall and you promised you’d watch their game too, knowing that it would sync up perfectly with Karasuno’s rest period.

“I’m going to be back for the next game,” you promise, “so don’t give my seat away.”

Your heart still hammers in your chest as you walk down the staircase.

If only you could keep these moments, locked up in a mason jar, take them out on bad days to relive them again.

“Are you leaving already?” Tobio’s looking up at you, sweat slick hair sticking to his temple, face flushed from exertion.

“I’m just moving to the other stadion to watch the Niiyama Girls,” you explain, pull him in for a hug when you reach him. “You were amazing.”

“Thank you,” his hot breath tickles your neck and maybe you’re imagining it, but you think you feel his heart racing through the thin jersey.

“Your start was messy though,” you reprimand him, your hand moving on its own to shuffle through his hair, putting each strand back where it belongs. “But you saved your ass. I’m going to be back for your next game, don’t worry.”

“I could come with you,” he rushes out. “It doesn’t really matter where I rest, right?”

You catch a look from Karasuno’s captain over Tobio’s shoulder. A smile dances over his freckled face and he makes a face that tells you everything you need to know.

“Fine,” you tell him, knowing that a ‘No’ would never work here, “But you should put on a jacket.”

His hand finds yours on the way to the other game, his grip warm and strong.

You don’t want to ever let go, but you still do, knowing full well how it would look like to your Kouhai’s. You’ve never had a boyfriend in the whole time you played with them. 

And even though the first years still remember Tobio showing up back then, you don’t want to give them any ideas that might come back to break your heart.

“You and Sugawara-senpai,” Tobio starts as soon as you’re sitting, “did you get along well?”

“I guess so,” your leg is pressed against his, the sensation shooting up your spine and into your brain. “He’s nice.”

“How nice?” He asks, voice so low you almost miss it.

You blink. The words are out before you’ve thought them through.

“Are you jealous, Tobio?”

“Should I be?”

You’re not sure how he means it. Teasing? Or is he unsure of this social construct, asking for an explanation?

He takes your hand, looks at it as if checking for injuries. “Would you hold my hand if Sugawara was here as well?”

Your mouth turns dry.

“Would I be allowed?” You ask. “I mean, I’m a lot older than you-”

“I like you.” He blurts it out like he blurts out most things. Two guys in front of you turn around with matching frowns. You’re sure they didn’t come here to hear your love confessions.

“We should talk about this later,” you whisper, cheeks burning. You press his hand. “I like you too, don’t worry.”

“Can’t we talk now?”

And maybe it would have been better to slip out and talk about it, but you’ve never once missed a minute of a game you wanted to see and Tobio’s hand doesn’t leave yours, his grip warm and heavy, his leg pressing into yours.

There’s much to talk about after this game ends and all the other ones today. There’s graduation and other things to consider, but you can’t help but think that it will be okay.

As long as his hand stays in yours, it will be okay.

“Where’s Kageyama?”

You turn to spot Sugawara looking through the crowd.

“Bathroom,” you explain. “I think he had a bit too much to drink.”

“Ah,” Sugawara smiles. “Haven’t had the time to properly talk to you today. How are you? How’s work doing?”

“Good and good. Our last match-”

“I know,” Sugawara smiles. “Kageyama tells me everything. He still calls every week to update me. He spent an hour boasting about that game.”

“Oh,” you blink, a little surprised and a lot flattered. “Wait, is that when he locks himself in our pantry for half an hour each Friday?”

Sugawara laughs. “He’s been asking for my advice for years and I don’t think he’s going to stop soon. I thought you knew, actually.”

“Well, I knew you taught him a lot concerning Volleyball, but this sounds like you did a lot more. Tell me the details, Sugawara-san.”

Sugawara grins cheekily, checking to see if Tobio’s still nowhere to be seen.

“When he spent the weekend at your place for the first time he asked me all kinds of questions. I’m the one who picked out the sleepwear he brought. He usually slept only in boxers or nothing at all depending on the temperature.”

You feel the heat rising to your cheeks. “I see. Thank you’s are in order.”

“Uhuh,” Sugawara winks. “Nothing to thank me for. You two deserve each other.”

“That just sounded mildly threatening,” you joke just as Tobio returns, threading his arm through yours.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your weekly talks with Sugawara-san,” you lean into him. “And the fact that you only wear sleepwear because of him.”

Tobio blushes a soft red. “You said you liked my Volleyball Pajamas.”

“I do. They are adorable.”

Tip me?

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  GIMME HALF

REQUEST : “hi!! I was wondering if you could maybe write an age gap (legal obv) with female!reader × dean winchester where the reader is like in her 20s and dean's in his 40s :) just some rough smut with choking and hair pulling and spitting (if you're comfortable with it) and dean being like super "hungry" for her, like he's waited a long time for it to happen. also lots of dirty talks cause i absolutely love them hahah :) anyways im in love with your writing and all your stories! thanks a lot! <3” — anonymous

PAIRING : dean winchester x professor!reader (f.)

CHARACTERS : miracle, sam winchester

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), angst, enemies to lovers, age gap, voyeurism, smut, oral sex, p in v, praise kink, choking, hair pulling, dacryphilia, rough sex, spitting

WORD COUNT : 8.4k

A/N : devil wears prada song title. @spnkinkevents : #12daysofspnkinkmas2023 — chair sex and food play. I wrote this half-asleep while listening to ASMR, like… that’s how I write most of my stories, plus, they’re always written between 00.00-02.40. Doctor Who references, ‘cause I’m a nerd. I got carried away…. Cliffhanger bc I’m cruel.

There were countless pros and cons to having houses built so close together with windows facing the same direction. 

Pros: Accidentally seeing your hot neighbour walk around naked in the living room and kitchen. Accidentally catching your hot neighbour jerk off when they think that everyone’s asleep.

Yup, she’s seen all of that and more. All from that nameless, freckled, green-eyed man next door. 

Even wholesome things, like him playing with his cute dog, babying the little rascal and spoiling it. Him cooking and baking, being wholeheartedly content with feeding it to the tall, Hazel-eyed puppy dog of a man, the tall man’s gorgeous deaf wife, and his tiny adorable son; the blue-eyed, dreamy dude in a trench coat; and that endearing young boy with blue eyes who looked like a combination of all three of the men. 

There were times where she’d seen the green-eyed man dressed as a cowboy and even a princess to entertain the little baby boy—his nephew. For sleepovers with him, he’d read him bedtime stories while being completely animated. He’d build a bunch of forts, with sheets, the couch, pillows, and some Christmas lights. He'd talk to the little boy and hold serious conversations despite neither of them being able to understand each other. He’d teach the young boy and the baby boy how to fix cars—at least he tried to. He’d pack his best friends' lunches every morning with his hair unkempt, half asleep, while sipping on some coffee. He’d even take naps with the baby, treating him as his own son. 

He’d do ridiculously endearing things, too, such as baking bread at night when he couldn’t sleep. He'd read books only when he was alone, as if he’d be made fun of by his friends, and she finally understood why. They were either romantic, erotic, or completely nerdy and abstract. He had range. He’d watch cheesy soap operas and rom-com k-dramas when he did chores. He loved to collect things such as Pokémon cards and even legos. 

There were a million things he did that she thought were cute. The windows into his house were like the screens of a television, like her favourite character, she got to see him when he’s relaxed and surrounded only by those who love him 

As for the cons, we’ll get to that…

When they first moved in, it was about three and a half years ago. She’d been visiting her family in Kansas City for her oldest brother’s birthday in June. 

When she returned to Lebanon, they had already settled down. There was a brown and beige Ford pickup truck, a black Subaru—both parked in the front, and a sleek black Impala in the driveway.

The youngest, Jack, waved at her one day when he returned with Cas after buying groceries. Then, Cas awkwardly introduced himself and Jack, and gave her the names of the other two men who were brothers, Sam is the tall one and Dean was the freckled one. 

Sam was the most social one. He’d spark up conversation with her whenever he saw her, dropping bits and pieces of information about himself, his brother, his fiancée, Cas, Jack, and Dean’s loyal dog, Miracle. 

After seven months of living together, Sam moved out with his wife, Eileen. They’d just gotten married, and they both invited her. She’d gone, the wedding was pretty, cute, and modest. Y/n had spoken to a few of their close family and friends. Dean, however, kept to himself the whole night as if he were grieving. He’d smile occasionally if any of his friends came to him, he was enthusiastic, and then he'd go back into himself.

Four months later, Sam and EIleen returned; she was pregnant. It was a boy, he’d planned on naming him after his big brother, which Y/n thought was adorable. He hadn’t told his brother, but planned on telling him the day his son was born.

Y/n could tell Dean had mixed feelings about his brother’s departure, mostly negative feelings. He loved Eileen and his nephew. But when it was just him, Cas, and Jack, he'd often drink, despite concerned, useless interventions with Cas. Unless Sam, Eileen, and his nephew were there. He’d never even glance at that top-shelf cupboard.

The good thing was that at least Dean was a happy drunk.

The first time she interacted with Dean was a few weeks after she’d returned from Kansas City, she assumed two things: his heart was closed off to new people, and he’s one hot, irritating, grumpy, sour, old man.

It was the spring semester at Kansas University. Y/n was grading her students’ creative, personal essays in the office downstairs. She was perplexed by the small percentage of her students and their inability to use proper grammar or follow the thorough, detailed checklist she created to get them to pass easily. 

Just when she thought she’d gotten great at making their lives easy, they return the shittiest, half-assed essays. She felt bad for the bad grades, but since the rest of her students managed to get perfect scores or at least proficient scores, she couldn’t just let them pass. 

Loud banging on the door startled her from reading an impressive essay. Her blood ran cold and she scrambled up from her rolling chair, ignoring that she pushed it halfway across the room. 

Her socked feet were quiet on the wooden floor, making her way quickly down the hallway until she got to the shelf where she kept her gun. She pressed it against the door and looked through the peephole, then relaxed when she saw Dean.

She was irritated by the loud knocking, though, regardless of how cute he looked when he was clearly pissed off. She opened the door and set the gun down on the table where she usually placed her keys.

“Lady, have you seen the mess you made outside?” Dean asked her, pointing behind him. She stared at him, stunned by how much prettier he looked up close. Her cheeks turned hot, but she looked past him trying to see whatever he was pointing at. 

She looked at her red Mustang parked in the front as a reminder to restock the kitchen, then looked close to where his house was. She winced at the mud and the running water from her hose going into his nice lawn.

“Shit,” she murmured, toeing her socks off before moving past Dean to turn the hose off. She got distracted by the mud and the puddles as she pulled the hose, and coiled it back where it should have been. It’s been a while since she last let her bare feet feel this beneath, the smell of wet dirt was amazing, even when it wasn’t caused by rainfall.

“Do you always do shit like this?” He asked from behind, his tone harsh. 

She frowned when she turned to look at his furious face, careful to not touch her forehead with her muddy hands when she used her wrist to move hair away from her face.  

“I’m sorry,” she apologised, tilting her head at him. He just rolled his eyes at her, then he stared at his lawn, and ran his hand down his face. “Did I do somethin’ else to piss you off?” She asked, looking around to see if there’s anything else she may have forgotten.

“One, your cat’s too damn loud, crying and meowing for my damn dog when you let him out,” he started, which made her blink in confusion. She didn’t expect something like that to get on his nerves. “And B, why the hell do you have cameras facing my place?” 

She narrowed her eyes at him, her ego being injured fueled her anger and defensiveness. “Okay, listen, Doctor Who, I said I was sorry, okay?” She could tell her words stunned him by the furrowing of his brows in bewilderment, disarming him and shutting him up. “It’s not my fault your dog likes my cat, too. And the cameras are off, they’re there to scare people, so fuck off,” she snapped before she stop herself. 

Dean scoffed at her, “fuck you.” She rolled her eyes at him this time, staring daggers into his back when he turned around to get to his home.

“If you’d fuck me, maybe you wouldnt be such an asshole.” Her snide words made him freeze. He laughed dryly and he turned to face her once more, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Pretty sure I’d still hate you, sweetheart,” he chuckled, crossing his own arms. That stung, even if she didn’t know him personally and half the time she spent romanticising him based on the little bit of information she had. “And I’d rather go fuck some other chick.” She clenched her jaw and breathed in slowly, angry heat began rising up her neck the faster her heart started to beat.

Entirely unintended, she venomously spat, “according to your brother, you haven’t been lucky enough, and you’re not going to be.”

“You talking to my brother about my sex life?” He stepped closer to her, his nostril flaring in anger. Betrayal and hurt crossed his features and she realised her mistake.

“No, just overheard him ‘cause you’re an overbearing douchebag,” she lied smoothly. Truth was, Sam and Eileen did accidentally—drunkenly—tell her how hard it was for Dean to maintain a serious relationship for more than three months. They don’t remember sharing that information. It was easy for her to casually ask about Dean’s love life and availability, masking her attraction to Dean as mere surprise as to how the younger brother got married before the older one. “Makes sense now why no one will sleep with you,” she laughed mockingly, stepping closer to him defiantly.

His face was red now, too. Angry, offended, he rolled his eyes at her smug face and body language. “You don’t know shit about me.”

“Sure, yeah, if that makes you feel better,” she snorted, patting his very nice, broad shoulder with her muddy hand as she made her back into her house. Preoccupied by the small mud-print on his beige Henley, he couldn’t get the last word in or stop her from leaving him flustered in her swampy driveway.

That was the start of a horrible relationship with her neighbour. The neighbour she had a crush on. 

He found all kinds of reasons to complain. Big and small. And she secretly did things to piss him off, occasionally sabotaging his plans. 

The thing was that deep down, she still liked him, but he made her so angry and frustrated. And it felt good to see him angry and frustrated by things she caused either on purpose or accidentally. Any attention was better than no attention.

Eventually, that all changed. The fun, the it’s-better-than-nothing feeling, it didn’t last. Fourteen months later, she stopped the cruel games and decided to avoid him completely. 

When her friends offered to take her out, she agreed, even if she wanted to stay home. If Dean was home, she made sure to never say no to them, and sometimes she’d offer to take them out. Wherever.

She’d started to grade at the cafe, library, or the diner, even if Dean went to all those places often. At least he wouldn’t say anything there around all those people. 

When she grew closer to Sam, Cas, and Jack, she’d find excuses not to go over to Dean’s when they offered either food, game nights, movie nights, or random hangouts. They started to notice too—the tension, the avoidance, the hostility—and they’d go over to her place instead, often without Dean, who’d choose to go out to avoid staying home alone.

It was awful. The rejection started to hurt, yet, he had her heart in the palm of his hand. Deep down, she knew that Dean wasn’t a bad person; he just didn’t like her.

Eventually, Dean ended his animosity, too, and everything went back to ‘normal’. She slowly started to reject offers from her friends to test the water, stayed home to grade, and didn't permit her cat to leave even if it cried for an escape. If she took him out, it was with a leash she eventually got him to get used to.

They ignored each other when they crossed paths—in the driveway, at the grocery store, at diners, at the cafe. They acted like complete strangers. She’d keep her curtains closed, at least she did for the windows that face his house. She made her presence as unnoticeable and as invisible as she could to prevent causing more damage to each other.

Then, about two months ago, on Halloween, Sam, Eileen, Cas, and Jack went to her house to collect candy. Sam made a point of staying back while the rest of them walked to where Dean was waiting—looking anywhere but at her house—to convince her to go to his and Eileen’s place for Thanksgiving. 

He was honest, cute, wide hazel eyes attempting to convince her to try and make amends with Dean. She didn’t doubt it, when he told her that Dean felt guilty, but her pride was bruised, and her heart was broken. She told Sam she would be visiting her own family for that holiday. She omitted that she’d be going to her mother’s house a few miles away, still in Lebanon. And she easily convinced her mother to let her stay the rest of the week until she had to go back to work.

Now, Christmas was near—in four days, to be exact. It wasn’t the holiday spirit that made her change her mind, it was the hurt and the exhaustion of planning her life around avoiding Dean. 

So, she called Sam, she asked if he could do anything to get Dean alone tomorrow. 

For the rest of the day, she would start to prepare everything—even though it was Dean who created the mess—she was willing to make the first move and hopefully meet him halfway. 

She couldn’t lie that she felt embarrassed by how excited she was to see Dean. She couldn't even differentiate the meaning of the butterflies in her stomach, but she powered through her fluttering heart and her shaking hands as she prepared everything before going to see him.

She considered not doing it at all, calling it quits—but the consequences of that quickly made her miserable. That would just mean more avoidance, more hiding, more changing everything about herself to make him happy.

All of this over one little misunderstanding. One bad day where her mouth ran without consulting her brain first ruined what could have otherwise been a good friendship—perhaps even a romantic relationship.

She was twenty-six and just like Dean, she hadn’t had a serious relationship since… Well, ever. The last time someone convinced her to date them was in highschool, and even before that, it took her a month—or less—to figure out she wanted nothing to do with them. She didn’t like the people she dated. She realised quickly that she didn’t even want a future with them, she didn’t even allow them to kiss her or touch her. So she figured that if she didn’t want to marry them, what was the point of wasting her time?

For so long, the first thing she thought of when she felt attracted to someone was: can I stand the thought of their touch? Can I see myself kissing them, letting them kiss me? Can I stand the thought of the fights and staying with them through thick and thin? Can I picture myself with them in the future, permanently?

The answer was always ‘no’ and the attraction died immediately after the realisation. 

With Dean, the answer was different. Not for some stupid reason, like fate, or the boy-next-door trope. No. This was reality, and the real reason was the fact that she got to see who he was before she was attracted to him. 

It was the selflessness, the love in everything that he did, the gentleness of his heart, the kindness that radiated from him, and the ease in the way he did chores, the way he made his friends laugh, his playfulness, the loyalty, the way he was clearly protective. 

It was the open windows of her house into his open windows that let her see through him, down to his very beautiful core. It was the lack of hidden things, the openness of his soul because he felt safe, unwatched. It was real because Cas, Jack, and Sam were proof that even though Dean wasn’t perfect, he was worth it.

The Doctor did say once: the good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice-versa, the bad things don’t necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant. 

For the first time, she was willing to take a chance.

She smoothed down the silky emerald-green dress. It was pretty, flowing down her body perfectly, stopping at the middle of her calves…. Actually, now that she looked at herself in the mirror, her curls perfectly maintained, the light touch of makeup, the heels… was it too much?

She ignored those anxious thoughts and made sure she had everything she needed and everything that she prepared before stepping out into the cold.

The spaghetti straps didn’t stop the cold, but the heat of her nervousness at least did something as she walked up to his door and waited after knocking gently. 

When he opened the door, he was stunned to see her.

“What?” He asked bluntly. 

She could tell that the way she was dressed caught him off guard. His eyes moved from her face, up to her hair, back down to the boxes in her hands, and lower to her feet. 

“I’ve got pie,” she said the first thing her mind thought of. Yes, it was blunt, yes, it disarmed him further… It was not smooth, but Dean looked behind him, and then he looked at her once more while biting his lip before opening the door wider, and stepping out of the way for her to enter. 

She exhaled shakily as he scratched the back of his neck. Out of habit, she slipped out of her heels before stepping inside his home, planting her bare feet on the soft, long rug he had. He kindly, wordlessly, took her heels from outside and placed them on the shoe rack he had inside before shutting the door behind her.

She felt so… warm. Finally, she was inside the place she longed to be in. Right where Dean was. Along the walls there were dozens of pictures, but she didn’t go too far, she waited for him.

She felt his presence behind her and it made her shiver, but she couldn’t bring herself to look back at him. Instead, she stared at photos of him with Cas, Sam, Jack, and other people she hadn’t met. Women and Men. Dean was smiling in all of them. And in a large majority of them, they were looking at him while he looked at the camera. 

What a funny thing. 

“Here,” he said from behind her, his deep voice sounded soft, gentle, unlike the last time they spoke to each other. It made her shudder. “Let me help.” She slowly braced herself when she turned around, staring into his beautiful green eyes, illuminated magically by Christmas lights. 

“Thanks,” she whispered, carefully loosening her grip on the objects in her hand for him to take what he wanted—which was everything. 

She stepped to the side when he murmured, “no problem,” and started to walk off to the kitchen. She followed him slowly, took a look around, respectfully, curiously, just when she heard the clicking of nails and the thump of paws on wooden floors, and the bark of his dog headed in their direction. 

“Miracle,” Dean grunted, setting everything down on the table, “not inside.” While the fluffy dog did stop its excited running, his enthusiasm was not lost as he wagged his tail, and playfully got down on his stomach in front of her feet. Still on his belly, Miracle approached Y/n slowly, paws and tongue at her toes, as if testing the waters. 

“Hey,” she greeted softly as she squatted slowly and laughed quietly, gently scratching Miracle’s head as he nudged her hand with his wet nose, staring up at her with adorably wide eyes—much like Sam did. “You’re so cute,” she cooed, her heart warming up when Miracle barked quietly.

He then jumped up and turned towards Dean, who was watching them—perplexed, happy, conflicted. 

“You were asleep,” Dean scolded, but sweetly took Miracle’s head in his hands and kissed him between his ears. Miracle whined and stepped away, sitting in front of Dean as if saying ‘I’ll be good if you let me stay’. “Whatever,” Dean groaned with a smile, which made Miracle happy, because he laid his cheek on his paw and stared up at Dean, resting.

Now, it was awkward. 

Dean caught her staring at him, her expression inquisitive. She cleared her throat awkwardly, but she couldn’t form words. She only now noticed that he was wearing a faded black shirt and hotdog pyjama pants. 

“So…” Dean began instead, “pie.” It wasn’t any better, but it’s as she always said: it was better than nothing. 

“Yes,” she confirmed, “strawberry… you weren’t getting ready for bed…?” She inquired, tipping her chin in the direction of his attire. 

“Not to sleep,” he reassured her, taking a few steps toward the cupboards to pull out two plates, glass cups, and then some utensils from the lower drawer. “Why are you doing this?” Dean asked quietly from where he was across the kitchen, everything still in his hands.

“I deserve better that’s why,” she snapped. He blinked at her, guilty, but she paused and took a deeper breath. Careful to not smear her eyeliner, she rubbed her temples instead. She reached behind her to wrap her ankle around the leg of a chair to pull it out and sit down. “Sorry, I don’t like… being angry,” she breathed out, looking out his kitchen window into her dark living room. She switched the Christmas lights off. “It's very stressful because I…” She turned to look at him and forgot her words as he came closer. 

He looked cuter in person and prettier, still. Three years and nothing has changed, he still had her heart right in his hand. 

“Why?” He pressed, placing everything down on the table in front of her. Looking up at him felt intimidating, so she averted her gaze. He was much older than she was… it made her… feel dumb. See-through. Like he could figure her out in seconds. 

“Because I’m friends with your friends,” she admitted without looking at him, then she reached out to arrange the plates, cups, and utensils. He sat down thoughtfully, and watched her unstack the small boxes she brought over. 

“You’re doing this for them,” he laid out flatly, but he took a seat next to her and stared at her. His eyes on her made her self-conscious, flustered. She bet he could see everything, all the ugly and the weird in her.

“I’m doing this for me,” she corrected him gently, “I just want to be happy,” she sighed, removing the plastic wrap she placed over the pie she baked. “Is that selfish?” She wondered out loud, taking the knife, she stared at it. 

“No,” Dean sighed, wrapping his hand around hers to take the knife. She inhaled sharply at the warmth of his touch, his calloused palms brushing against the back of her hand, sending warmth over her chest, pressing into her wrist with her heart excitedly pounding against her ribs.

She released the knife into his hold, trying to hide how much he affected her, but she doubted she could fully do that with the Christmas lights exposing the blush she could feel on her face. She could feel her veins pumping blood faster, caught up with the heavy beating of her heart. If he looked down at her neck, he could probably see it in her veins.

She looked away, down at Miracle who was still peacefully laying on his belly, and Dean looked away towards the beautiful pie to start slicing into it.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, taking her plate to give her the first slice. She looked up at Dean, taking the plate with a generous slice of strawberry pie. 

“I wanted to be the first to say it…” She complained playfully, trying to maintain eye contact with him, but his beauty was intimidating, forcing her to look away, “soon as my ego stopped being sensitive,” she added. 

Dean laughed softly, placing his own slice on his plate. The sound of his laugh made her smile, her stomach flipped with elation, at the crinkles by his eyes. Her breathy exhale made him look at her.

“Well, I’m forty-four, my ego’s been bruised enough times,” he told her, “I don’t care much for it when…” he trailed off and chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. She bit her lip, too, trying not to stare too long at his pretty mouth. 

“Well, thanks,” she murmured, her jaw twitching as she looked away from him. 

“I’d consider all this an apology,” he told her, gazing at her as she opened two rectangular boxes. She smiled, shaking her head. She pulled out a bottle of homemade eggnog along with a decorated jar filled with white frosting, and a small container with crushed peppermint candy. “This isn’t… poisoned, right?” He teased, still watching her while she opened the bottle of rum eggnog, she tilted her head at him, amused. “Just making sure… you did make all this…” he trailed off, impressed.

“Taste the pie,” she encouraged as she started making the drinks.

“You’re just trying to shut me up,” he chuckled gruffly, but he picked up his fork and started to dig in. The strawberry filling barely touched his tongue when he moaned, she watched him not even begin to chew. His brows furrowed and he closed his eyes, savouring the pie. 

It made her blush, but she focused on covering the rim of the cups he brought with the whiskey frosting she made and the peppermint candy shavings before filling it with eggnog.

“You made the frosting, too?” He asked, tipping his head towards the jar. His mouth was full, some strawberry filling dripped down the corner of his mouth, but he picked it up with his tongue. She licked her lips, trying to stop herself from breathing airily, and passed him the eggnog with a nod and slid the jar of frosting towards him to serve herself some eggnog. 

Dean dipped his finger into the frosting, collecting a large amount before wrapping his lips around his finger to suck the frosting off. She forced herself to look away from how hot he looked and ate her own slice of pie instead.

“I’ve seriously been missing out,” he murmured regretfully. “I was real childish,” he told her, “I never should’ve gotten pissed over… everything-”

“Dean,” she interrupted him, giving him a sheepish smile, “you already apologised and I forgive you. Besides, I did things, too.. on purpose… so, I’m sorry.” She pursed her lips and took a sip from her eggnog, swiping her tongue along the sweet frosting.

“You did things on purpose?” He repeated, a smirk on his face. She breathed out a laugh and nodded bashfully. “Why?” he wondered, leaning into her curiously, subtly moving his plate of food towards her. She considered being blunt, but she chose to test him instead.

“Probably the same reason you got pissed at everything I did and didn’t do,” she laughed, pulling a piece of strawberry out of the pie to put it in her mouth.

“I doubt that,” Dean muttered, picking up his own drink, and taking a large gulp. She eyed him closely, her eyes becoming hooded when he licked across his lips after drinking to collect the thin layer of sweetened alcohol on his mouth. 

“What was your reason then?” She wondered flirtatiously, her voice low and seductive. She pushed her plate away with her arm., and mimicked his body language, scooting forward in the chair. 

She watched as his eyes darkened and his jaw clenched, his hand tightening around his fork before he dropped it. She’d never quite been stared at that way before, but it suddenly—almost, made her laugh. Her legs felt weak, her stomach heavy, almost fooling her into thinking she couldn’t get up, but she did.

With a rapid heart and shaky knees, she pushed her chair back, and Miracle lifted his head in alarm. Dean leaned back in his chair, sliding his palms up his thighs, and watched hungrily as she lifted her dress up her legs, squeezing in front of him and part of the table to sit on his lap. 

“Seems like we’ve both been missing out on a lot of stuff,” she whispered, her stomach fluttering for a variety of reasons, but mostly from excitement. He bit his lip, eyes twinkling as he placed his hands slowly on her thighs. She sank her teeth down on her lip, too, breathing heavily when his hands began sliding up her thighs, lifting her dress higher, and higher.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, continuing to move her dress up until his hands were wrapped around her hips where he could realise she wasn’t wearing any underwear. “I thought I should tell you, before I ruin you,” he rasped, tightening his hold on her hips.

“Fuck,” she moaned, moving forward in his lap until their hips were pressed together. She brought her hands into his hair, and pulled it gently, bringing her mouth close to his, but she never kissed him. She breathed against his lips and when he leaned forward to kiss her, she pulled back teasingly.

“You’re seriously gonna make me wait?” He whispered, slowly rolling his hips up into her, his hard cock pressing into her wet core. She gasped softly against his mouth and laughed breathlessly.

“You feel good,” she praised, flushing as she ground against him harder.

“I’d feel better inside you,” he smirked, sliding one of his hands farther up her dress, his warm palm flattening up her stomach reverently, stopping beneath her breasts..

“I bet,” she moaned, arching into his touch before finally pressing her tinted lips against his. Dean moaned softly against her mouth, pressing against her hungrily, then lifted her up, carefully moving his plate and cup aside to lay her down on the table. 

“Miracle, bed,” Dean ordered when he pulled away from her lips. The dog obediently stood up and excitedly made his way to where Dean’s room was. Dean kissed her once more, drawing her attention away from Miracle and back to him.

She’d never been kissed the way Dean kissed her or touched the way Dean touched her. His hands were everywhere, testing, learning, skillful. He scratched her skin sending sparks down to her already soaked core, kneading her body roughly until she moaned against his mouth. He squeezed her and made her wet. He dug his blunt nails into her and made her nerves ignite. His hands smoothed across her, sailing over her body like she were an ocean and he was a sailor. 

He was desperate, devouring her mouth with his tongue and his teeth, putting his all into the kiss, licking her lips, teasing the inside of her mouth, brushing against her warm tongue. He yearned to memorise the taste of her mouth, to feel close to her, pressing and moaning against her the way he’d done when he ate the pie and frosting. He nibbled on her lips, tugging, biting, claiming, taking the air from her lungs and pulling away at the perfect time. 

He rolled his hips into her frantically and finally started to move away from her now-swollen lips, the colour of her raspberry tint robbed and replaced by the redness of his kiss. 

He dragged his teeth teasingly along her jaw and licked his way down her neck, pressing his stubbled face into her neck, kissing and sucking softly, searching. She rolled her head to the side, giving him all the access he needed, until finally, she moaned loudly when he sucked into her sweetspot. He smiled against her throat, feeling her take handfuls of his shirt, her hips wiggling impatiently beneath him.

He kissed lower still, then back up to the other side of her neck, and bit her collarbones, kissing every inch of her skin, her shoulders and her sternum. She loved every second of it and slipped her hands beneath his shirt, touching and scratching his skin, pulling him closer as he bucked into her bare core.

“Did you know your shirt was see-through when we first met?” He whispered into her cleavage. She laughed and replied with a breathless ‘no’. “Well.. your tits on display, legs bare in those tiny shorts, all pissed as hell… it was hot,” he chuckled, lowering the thin straps of her dress until the top started to reveal her breasts. 

“Is that why you jerked off that night?” She asked, gripping his hair and tugging hard. He grunted and laughed, staring into her lustful eyes.

“You saw?” He teased, bringing his hand to her breast, squeezing roughly. “The answer’s yes.. And everytime after that, it was also ‘cause of you,” Dean confessed, “couldn’t stop thinking about you, every day and every night. I thought I hated you, but I guess I just needed to fuck you.” 

She chuckled, gripping the hem of his shirt, dragging it up his body as he latched onto her nipple. She hummed softly, tugging hard at his hair, in complete bliss as he wrapped his mouth around the bud, licking, sucking, and biting until she whimpered for him to give her more—which was impossible. He moved onto her other breast, savouring her warm skin with his hotter mouth, tugging her neglected nipple with his fingers, twisting and pinching. 

“Please,” she moaned, yanking his hair so he’d pull away. Dean growled against her flesh and bit down hard on her breast, before pulling away, drawing a mewl from her of his name. 

“You could be nicer,” he muttered, allowing her to lift his shirt up off his body, but he continued to kiss her breasts, sucking gently around the flesh to leave red marks. He lifted her feet up on the table and pressed her thighs close to her chest, opening her up to admire her soaked sex.

“We’re long past nice, pretty boy,” she teased blushing and biting her lip when he stood up straight. She didn’t look at him, too insecure to watch him as he brought his hand to the inside of her thighs, teasing her vulva.

“You think I’m pretty?” He grinned, circling her entrance, moaning at copious amounts of arousal on his fingers. “So wet… you that needy for my cock inside you?” He asked smugly. 

She looked at him now, heat flooding up her face at his obscene words. Before she could say anything about it, the tattoo on his chest drew her attention away from the adorable pride on his face.

“You’re a hunter,” she stated, stunned, blinking at him with a smile. He looked down at himself then at her, speechless. She lifted her hips and hitched her dress up higher to reveal her ribcage where she had the same tattoo, twice as small.

“You’re a professor,” he remarked with arousal on his face, pushing his finger into her. He lowered himself down her body and wrapped his arm around her legs, holding her open as he breathed warmly against her wet cunt.

Before she could close her legs to him demurely, Dean dove in, his mouth hot on her pussy. He ate her out the same way he kissed her, teeth making her whimper, his tongue parting and tasting, picking up the flavour of her wetness as she moaned. 

He salivated on her, humming in satisfaction while he sucked her clit into his mouth while he fingered her. Her hands found his hair once more, pulling hard and almost painfully, but his cock jumped each time inside the thin material of his pyjamas. Dean added a second finger as he moaned against her swollen clit, knuckles deep, pressing against the front of her textured walls, drawing silent moans from her, making her squirm more and more. 

“Fuck,” she panted, “you’re so good,” she praised, flexing her hand above his head before gripping at the honey strands. He slurped lewdly, devouring her pussy, squeezing her hips desperately holding her close to his face while she pushed him harder against her cunt. “Dean… I’m close,” she moaned, closing her legs around his head. 

He moaned again, adding another finger, shoving deep as he circled her swollen clit with his tongue, drawing figures on her clit possessively. She gasped loudly and cried out his name, tensing up when she orgasmed, her walls clamping down on his three fingers. The rapture of her orgasm seemed endless as he continued to tongue at her clit, it made her writhe uncontrollably, and he smirked against her pussy.

Her whiny laugh and the way she squeezed his head to stop him made him chuckle, and he tapped her thigh once he pulled his fingers from within her pulsing walls. She released him, melting into the table while he licked his fingers clean of her release.

“You taste good,” he told her earnestly, “so fucking good.” She bit her lip, giving him a look of disbelief. He narrowed his eyes at her, leaning down to lick a long stripe up her pussy, then down, pushing his tongue past her clenching, wet hole. 

“Dean, fucking…” she moaned, “oh, God, why does that feel good?” She snickered, then he pulled away hovering above her. She opened her eyes to his smug face, his clean fingers squeezed her cheeks roughly until she opened her mouth. She furrowed her brows, whining out with her hands around his wrist so he’d release, but she shut up when he spit in her mouth.

“Taste yourself,” he ordered, licking his lips. Her pupils dilated as she looked into his eyes, the tangy taste of herself made her mouth water and she swallowed. “D’you know how hot you are?” He asked rhetorically, kissing her roughly once more, ravenous and stopped only when he felt her hands pushing his pants down his legs.

“I want you, Dean,” she whispered against his mouth, biting his lip before returning the passion of his kiss.

“Where?” He asked teasingly, wrapping his arm around her waist, he sat her up on the table and gently held her face in his hands, before releasing her to strip completely. 

“I want you inside me,” she told him coquettishly, hopping off the table to slowly let her dress pool around her feet. “I want to ride you, to feel you stretch me open…” she walked towards him, watching him completely aroused, a look of pleasant surprise on his face, “I want you to fill me up, and make me cum on your cock…” she licked her lips, staring down at his cock, erect and leaking precum. “... I’ve never seen a dick this nice,” she told him, wrapping her hand around the base and stepping closer to him.

He grunted, “suck it then.” She laughed through her nose, releasing his cock to fondle his balls. He moaned, stumbling slightly.  “I’ve been wanting to shut you up with my cock in your mouth,” he told her, a smirk on his face, “now, I’m just thinking how pretty you’ll look with your lips wrapped around me.” Dean reached up and curled his fingers around the back of her neck. 

She looked behind him, removed her hand, and tipped her head to the chair, “sit.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned, kicking the chair towards him like she had earlier, then he sat, legs wide and tempting. “You’re sexier than you were in my imagination,” he told her, watching her get down between his legs, kissing his thighs while looking up at him through her curled lashes. 

“Keep talkin’,” she grinned up at him, taking his heavy cock in her hand once more. Dean gave her a sexy look, smug and aroused.

“I wanna finish in your mouth,” he told her, “want to see you swallow my load.” Pleased, she moved forward and began kissing and licking the length of his cock, teasingly and experimentally feeling the velvety, veiny texture against her hand, tongue, and lips. “I want to hear you choke on my cock, and see what you look like with tears in your eyes as I fuck your pretty face.” She moaned softly, intrigued by the description of his fantasy. 

She dipped her tongue into the slit, moaning at the taste of his precum, drooling over the soft head of his cock before sucking him into her mouth.

“Fuck,” he moaned, tangling his fingers in her hair. She slowly took him deeper, pulling him out of her hot mouth teasingly, then swallowing inch by inch of his hard cock. “You’re so good at that, baby,” he panted, letting her take her time at her own pace, but he gripped her hair tightly. “Don’t stop,” he moaned, staring into her eyes as she continued to take his cock, bobbing her head, not stopping until he hit the back of her throat. She swallowed around him, and he bucked his hips up, releasing a whispered curse, attempting to keep his eyes open to watch her suck him off.

She got comfortable between his legs, taking his freehand to put it in her hair. He took her hair, put it together, and waited for her permission before slowly lifting his hips, pushing his cock slowly into her throat. When she gagged, he slowly pulled back, then pushed back into her, lips parted, releasing quick breaths. 

Eventually, he started to fuck her face in earnest, lifting his hip up off the chair, pulling her hair hard to guide her on and off his dick. Her spit dribbled down her chin in a mixture of his precum. She swallowed as much as she could, moaning and blinking tears that tickled her eyes and her jaw. 

“You look so fucking…” he chocked on a moan, “so damn sexy.” 

She ignored the soreness of her jaw, relaxing it as best as she could as he fucked her near mercilessly. Her pussy throbbed with every sound of his pleasure, clit aching for attention at the way he gazed down at her with burning desire, but she refused to touch herself, enjoying the build-up, the desperation for another orgasm, for his touch. 

He throbbed in her mouth, turning to mush beneath her mouth. He even began to whimper and moan her name, praises and dirty words becoming scarce in attempts to hold back his orgasm, edging himself with her mouth. It didn’t take long for him to hold her with her nose against his pelvis breathlessly. 

He pulled her off his cock, and released her hair to wipe tears tenderly from her hot cheeks with his thumbs, trying to get his mind off the near-pleasure of her mouth around his cock while catching his breath. 

“Yummy,” she rasped, pulling a breathless laugh from him. She wiped her chin with her shoulder and smiled up at him, slowly getting up on her knees to get rid of the ache of sitting on her legs.

She got up, leaning back against the table, admiring him in his red, flushed, somewhat sweaty state. His hair was a mess from her hands and he had a blush around his neck to his ears. She knew the hardness of his body accounted for the fact that he was a hunter, as well as the scars she felt beneath her soft hands, bite marks, bullet wounds, and healed slashes.

“Come closer,” she told him and he laughed, bringing himself and the chair closer, stopping when she sat on his thighs, fixing herself over his strong thighs. “Gonna cum if I tease you?” She asked, tapping the head of his cock. It twitched instantly and he moaned.

“Depends,” he replied breathily, sliding his hands up her body. She hummed softly, spreading her legs, positioning his cock near her soppy folds.

“On what?” She cackled playfully, parting her folds with one hand, circling her clit with her fingers. He watched her lustfully, the wetness that made her pussy shine coated her fingers.

“How wet and warm you feel on my cock,” he replied truthfully. He grabbed her hand and moved it out of the way anyway, taking his cock to push it between her folds, pressing the tip against her clit. 

“Fuck, Dean,” she moaned softly, grasping his shoulders, “you feel… I need you,” she whimpered, rolling her hips along the length of his cock. He moaned with her, moving her hips closer to him, her wetness coating his cock.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, sweetheart…” Dean moaned, watching her lean back against the table, positioning the soft head of his cock to her entrance. Completely enthralled, he watched himself slip inside her, and she watched him, biting her lip hard in concentration, the stretch of her walls around him almost painful. “Fuck… I can feel how bad you need me… I need you just as bad,” he panted, flexing his hands on her thighs, desperately trying not to thrust up into her warmth. He dug his nails into her flesh, his head tipping back, his hips rolling up.

“Dean,” she moaned again, starting to lift herself up and down his cock, reaching up to cup her breast. “Shit, you feel amazing,” she breathed out, grinding her hips against his until he was fully inside her. 

“You okay?” He asked, one of hands drifting up to knead her breast comfortingly. She nodded, buried her fingers in his hair and brought him in for a kiss as she bent her knees, and tucked her feet in between his thighs.

“I could cum like this,” she mumbled against his lips. His chuckle rumbled through his chest and he shook his head, her pussy clenched at the sound and she started to lift herself up again.

“Don’t worry,” he told her, sucking on his lip momentarily. “I’ll make you cum so hard…” He paused to moan, thrusting up into her slowly, meeting her hip. “...you’ll never want to fuck anyone else,” he promised her, building up the pace of his thrusts until she stopped moving with him altogether, letting him fuck up into her needy cunt. 

“You’ll only wanna be fucked by me,” he continued, watching her lean back with her elbow on the table, her hands roaming his warm body, “and I’ll be there, ready to fuck you hard.” He looked over her shoulder, at the jar of frosting. “Pounding into your sweet cunt,” he swore breathlessly, reaching behind her, dipping his fingers to gather frosting, “makin’ you beg, makin’ you impossibly wet.” He smeared frosting over her nipples, over her collarbone, her sternum, until he had no more while she moaned his name needily. 

“Makin’ you feel things you’ve never felt before.” He gripped her hip with frosting-coated fingers, leaning forward to lick and suck the whiskey frosting from her body. “I’ll fill you up as many times as you want,” he vowed, smoothing her hand up her back, into her hair once more, pulling until she whined his name. “I’ll fuck you wherever you want.”

Her pussy continued to gush over Dean’s cock the more he talked—his breathless, husky voice taking her over the edge. Each rough pull of her hair made her mewl and whimper as she rolled her hips desperately against his. 

“Dean, please,” she whispered, scratching down his back, digging marks into his skin the harder and faster he thrusted into her. Loud skin slapping, the wet sound of her pussy being penetrated, with every push of his cock in and out of her, squelching and driving her crazy. She dug her nails into her palm, making obscene sounds that made her self-conscious.

“I’ll fuck you all over your house, all over mine.” Another moan of his name, another rough pull of her hair. “I’ll fuck you in my car, in your car, anywhere and all over town.” He pulled away from her sticky chest, licked his lips at the sight of her, so she screwed her eyes shut. She felt a warm pool of wetness on her pelvic bone, opened her eyes to him spitting between their bodies, watching his saliva drip down her folds to her clit. 

She’d never heard of or experienced sex quite this raw and dirty.

“I’ll make you scream my name, make you forget how to talk, how to walk…” She leaned back into him, panting into his ear, keeping him close while rubbing her clit. He yanked her hair, forcing her to look at him. 

“Dean…”

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he whispered, closing his eyes, he breathed against her lips, “and I want you forever.”

As he promised, she cried out his name when she came, squeezing his cock hard, coating him in her release. He grunted her name, cursing loudly as he came inside her, his hot seed spurting into her, filling her as he said he would. 

He circled his arms around her as she writhed once more, releasing her hair as she put her arms around his neck, panting and catching her breath until the pleasure subsided.

“I want all of that,” she murmured after a few moments of silence, kissing his cheek. He squeezed her and moved back, bewildered. He moved hair from her face and tilted his head at her, drawn to her nakedness, her flushed beauty. “First, I want to shower…” Slowly, carefully, she climbed off his lap, her legs shaky, her pussy releasing the mixture of their pleasure. 

“That’s a good start,” he told her softly. “Son of a bitch,” he mumbled when he stood up from the chair and looked around at the mess in the kitchen. “No one’s coming home anytime soon… thanks to Sammy…” Dean trailed off, smoothing his hand over his head to fix his hair.

“Thanks to me,” she came clean with a shy smile, bringing his gaze up to hers. His eyes twinkled and he laughed loudly, tugging her towards him again by her arm, his lips pressing against hers.

➥ sempiternal

taglist

@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @the-achievementhunter @deanfreakingwinchester @k-slla @madzzz0797 @laylaackles @fanfic-n-tabulous @kristophalis @mrlonelycat @taylortotsworld @evznackles

main masterlist

dean winchester masterlist

kinkmas2023 masterlist

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[monster-mash-m]

Leech hybrid partner? Gimme.

MDNI

Basically acts like a vampire to feel cool, although they don’t only have to drink blood, they can eat small things as well, depending on the kind of leech they are.

Leech hybrid who constantly wants to mate to create more offspring. Definitely sucks your blood while having their cock deep in you or the other way around. Since most leeches have both genitalia!

Your leech hybrid partner who clings to you like a koala because they love you so much, is it their fault that they just wanna breed with their pretty mate? No! It’s their right, so stop whining about how overstimulating they’re being and let them fuck you one more time. This is the last time they promise!

Leech hybrid who constantly changes in size after feeding. One moment they are all lean and toned, next minute they have cute roles and a chubby tummy. Since their skin and organs are very flexible.

Loves how warm your human skin is, loves your body hair compared to their slippery and uncannily squishy bodies.

Leech hybrid who gets possessive and upset when they are just showing you affection constantly and your friends and family are calling them parasitic. They are not! It’s not their fault they need to be attached to you all the time!

Leech hybrid who uses their flexibility to do some weird shit in the bedroom-

Leeches are like my favorite animal-

[mukbangg]

Can you maybe do one where billy and fem!reader have been in a relationship for a year or something like that and haven’t gotten intimate yet and one day when they’re hanging out somewhere their kids kind of turns into a make out session and billy indicates he wants to go further but reader is scared so he kind of guides her in a comforting way?

Thank you!!

Oki

Being with billy is like honey.

Hes so warm you practically melt whenever you're near him and your giddy grin is reflex at this point.

Sweet sweet Billy, jesus you're drunk off him hes just so lovely.

Sometimes you spend hours kissing him like you can inhale him, saliva slick on both your chins as you suck his bottom lip and lick the roof of his mouth.(he always snorts when you do that its ticklish)

Though, all these intense makeout sessions never lead anywhere. As soon as his hands slid a little lower, you're jolting, breath stilling as you pull away with an almost shameful look. Billy doesnt mind though, hes always quick to assure you that you dont have to do anything you're not comfortable with.

Sweet, gentle Billy,despite all his bloody history and those unnerving eyes which was the last glimpse of many men before their inevitable death at his hands. He presses soft kisses into your hair, whisper honeyed words into your ear, and you're cuddling into his chest, assured that you've got nothing to be sorry for.

Maybe its all the stories from the brothel woman, the mid wives and mothers and such, its built up some subconscious fear of the act itself that it makes you hesitate each time.

So when you find yourself in his lap, panting into each other's mouths as you grind down on him, the same fear grips you and you freeze.

Billy understood immediately, pulling away as his palm cups your nape and forehead presses against yours.

"Hey doll,"

He murmurs, nudging your nose with his.

"Back to earth? We dont got to do anything, hmm?"

He kisses your cupid's bow softly, tongue darting out to lick your lips.

"I like kissing you anyways. We can just do that,'kay doll?"

But you're shaking your head slowly, teeth digging into your bottom lip.

"I can...I wanna do this, Billy. With you,"

He hears the hesitance in your voice and he quirks his lips to the side, humming in thought.

"You sure? Dont wanna make you feel forced or anything. You know that you dont have to, right?"

And you nod your head, smiling up at him all sweet the way he knows you're not changing your mind.

"My best girl,"

He whispers, dropping his head down to the crook of your neck, kissing the soft skin there.

"You'll tell me if you dont wanna, 'kay doll? I'll be real gentle, I promise,"

And gentle he was, practically worshipping you as he slips your dress off, kiss up your thighs and slide your panties off. Your legs instinctively try to close, but hes fit himself between them, just resting his chin below your belly button.

"Shy, arent you?"

He murmurs, lips curving into a loopy smile.

"Here, gimme your hands, doll,"

You reach down obediently, lips pursed before you let them quirk up in a tight smile when he places your hands over his eyes.

Your soft squeeze was all he needs before hes kissing down your pussy lips, tongue diving in to lap at your already drooling hole up to you cute little clit. Hes so slow, making sure you know he wants to take care of you. And before you know it, your hands had slide up to curl in his hair, tugging softly hips bucking into his face and he chuckles into your wet pussy knowing hes got you over your hurdle.

Hai who am I kidding, heres an extra drabble:

"Fuuucckkk doll, your lil' cunny's sucking me all the way in,"

Billy huffs, breathless as you writhed under him.

Hes got one large palm on your belly, pressing down slightly on the small bulge that's visible when he thrusts into you.

"All this time I've been jerking myself, and you've had this sweet cunt right hereohhhh fuck-"

He chokes out before hes cumming again, emptying his balls straight into your womb.

And you? You dont know how many times you've cummed already, too dumbed out and filled with pleasure(and cum).

The bottom of you butt is wet, a mixture of both your fluids spilling out your abused hole whenever he fucks into you. The loud squelch as he shifts was vile, a fat glob leaking out your when he pulls out, gliding his still hard cock through your fold.

Billy taps your face, running his hand through your mussed hair.

He runs the swollen head of his cock against your clit, earning a squeal from you as he chuckles.

"Aaandd shes gone. Fucked you dumb did I, doll?"

"Billllyyyyy!!! S'too much-"

But you dont get to finsh as your voice tapers off into a sob, his thumb sliding across your aching clit, slipping a little from how slick it is.

"C'mon doll, y'can do it, c'mon- ahfuck,"

He pushes his thick cock in just as you squirt, coating his pelvis as he continues rubbing your clit.

"Billy- billy-"

You sob, each snap of his hips coaxing spurts of clear liquid out as his tip hits that sweet spot in you just right.

"You're ready to be a momma for me, hmm? My pretty lil' momma,"

Gods, what were you thinking denying yourself Billy's cock this whole time? Every jolt of pleasure fries straight up your spine and zaps every thought out your head. You just wanna take every load he dumps in you, let him plug you with his fingers as he fuck his cum back in.

[bambi-slxt]

I’ve been feeling really down lately so would you mind writing something real fluffy with either chris x reader or matt x reader and it’s about how playful they are together and they’re always teasing and tickling each other and stuff like that.

Just something real cute, love your writing btw!!

of course, honey <3 a/n at the bottom

playful!matt & playful!chris:

✨a concept✨

making dinner -

chris: definitely dancing around the kitchen and being exactly zero help. "come on," he yaps, grinning his cute stupid little grin, "dance with me, pretty girl, the pasta can wait." "chris!" you can't help but giggle at the kid. "wanna dance with my lady." his smile is almost too big for his face, and your heart feels tight.

matt: does everything he can to distract you while simultaneously assuming an air of utter and absolute innocence. "i don't know what you're talking about," he says, slipping behind you and pinching your side, rolling his eyes at what he believes is an incredible overreaction from you.

going thrifting -

chris: tries to scare you by hiding in the racks like you haven't been watching him the entire time, only to be disappointed when you're not startled in the slightest. "but...but..." he grumbles, hanging off your shoulders, arms wrapped dejectedly around your neck, "i tried so hard."

matt: "what do you mean, 'don't get the grand-dad shirt'? this is the peak of fashion!"

the shirt in question:

movie night -

chris: resorts to assailing you with tickling when he doesn't get his way. "i wanna - mmfh - watch The Lion - fuck! - King, so we're gonna fuckin' watch - you motherfucker - The Lion - GET BACK HERE!"

matt: keeps trying to drown his face in your tummy instead of watching whatever's put on the tv. "it's just so cozy." his words are incredibly muffled. "you begged me for three days to watch this with you." "mmfh. gimme head scratches." "you're such a baby." "i love youuuuu."

beach day -

chris: insists on playing mermaids ("wait how come you get the sparkly tail. i'm the merman king, i should get the sparkly tail."), lifeguards ("okay, okay, pretend you're like, drowning, yeah. why? so i can be a hero and save you! duh."), and terraforming the beach itself ("it'll be good for a tiktok, yeah, just dig the trench all the way up there by the towels, and then we can divert all the water away from here and-").

matt: hunts all morning for shells for you and teaches himself to braid so he can string them in your hair. he ends up tangling things more than he produces actual results, but is very careful to undo his mistakes and reapply sunscreen on your shoulders. "and here i thought you hated the beach." "i despise the beach," he says cheerfully, closing yet another ziploc baggie filled to the brim with shells. "can't wait to go home." "liar." matt smiles against your neck, his chest pressing into your back. "yeah, maybe."

farmer's market -

chris: conveniently forgets how much he hates fruits and vegetables because, "they just look so, like...anasthetic. that's the word right?" "nope." "anta...antacid? anna..." "aesthetic?" "that's the bitch, look at these strawberries, they're fucking huge-" "you let the strawberries nick bought last week grow mold in the fridge!" chris grins. "what's your point?"

matt: more focused on petting the dogs people brought with them than looking at the actual stalls with products/goods. "who's a good boy, yeah you are, hey babe we should get a dog, oh my god, you're just the sweetest lil' guy-"

night out:

chris: never lets you walk on the outside of the sidewalk and always stops to listen to the musicians through the bars' flung-wide windows. "baby, look, his guitar's got flames on the side. oh shit, you cold? hey, come here, kid," he chuffs, gathering you under his arm, dulcet harmonies flowing from the bar into the soft night air. "i love you," he murmurs, his lips fluttering against the shell of your ear. "i love bein' out here with ya."

matt: gently hands his finger from the belt loop of your jeans, guiding you lightly through the crowds, watching your face light up at the sights and sounds around you. "holy shit, they're so drunk!" "yeah," he says softly. he couldn't care less about a single other thing in this moment - how would he, when the sparkling neon of the nighttime scene washed over your features?

ice-cream date -

chris: plans to get something to share and refuses to hear anything to the contrary, grinning at all attempts to sway him. "yeah, she'll have - quit it - that one over there, please - i'll tickle you right here in public, i swear to god i will - yeah, thanks - miss lady you better watch it-" "...okay, this is pretty good." he scrunches his nose quite cutely in lieu of a verbal response, shoveling spoonfuls into his mouth.

matt: does literally everything he can to get you to make a mess just so he can do the cliche 'wipe ice cream from your lip' move. "i'm a classy guy, alright, leave me alone," he says with a grin.

cleaning day -

chris: CAUTION- may actually flat-out refuse. "we could just stay in bed though," he grumbles, holding your arm hostage. "we gotta cleannnn..." "nahhhh, come back to me." in a sudden burst of energy, he tugs you all the way back onto him, rolling you onto the mattress and under the blanket in one fell movement.

matt: shuffles your favorite playlist, turns it up, and dances with a feather duster you didn't even know he owned. "WHERE THE HELL DID THAT COME FROM?" "STOLE IT FROM NICK'S ROOM. COME ON, WE GOTTA DUST!"

grocery shopping -

chris: has a cart and a dream, and is infinitely more focused on you than actually locating the necessary items. "you want it? yes, mamas," he chuckles, "get whatever you want. yeah i mean it. that's what you want for dinner? okay," he shrugs, his downturned smile making his dimples show up and show out, "i'll make ya whatever you want."

matt: has a list and a plan, both of which quickly crumble as he finds it impossible to resist your impulse-purchasing. "no, baby, we gotta..." - long-suffering sigh - "we already have...yes we do, they're at home in your drawer...what do you mean, 'they're all gone', how did you...okay, well chris isn't SUPPOSED to eat your fucking snacks-"

vlogging -

chris: "okay guys, so i'm gonna take her to build-a-bear but it's gonna be a surprise so don't- HEY YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE OUT HERE YET-" the camera falls onto the couch as a blurry image of you and chris rolling around on the floor fades into view. his hat flies off and his weird, goofy laugh fills the living room.

matt: "hey guys >:|" "tell them :)" "i'm fuckin' getting there. so i said last time that i would never do this stupid wheel of punishments again, but someone convinced me-"

makeup/facials -

chris: "this feels colllld. i'm only doing this cuz i love u. what's this one supposed to do? the last one said it was gonna clean out my pores or something, and this one...'just looks cute', huh? i'm gonna fUCKING-" he launches off his bathroom counter and tackles you onto his bed in a flurry of kisses and tickles

matt: "i think i look great with eyeliner actually. what is it larray says, cunty? do i look cunty? why are you laughing?"

cuddle time -

chris: "absolutely not. come here mamas. you're not goin' anywhere, it's rainin' outside, an' i know you're still tired...come on, i miss ya already..." he smiles as you oh-so-reluctantly nestle back into the covers he holds up for you. "atta girl. stay here til' you die." "chris what the fuck." "that was romantic!" "...sure it was honey. sure it was." his laugh makes you roll your eyes, but the peppered kisses that follow make you smile in spite of yourself. "i love you...you know that, right?" "i had an idea, yeah." he tugs you into his body with a playful growl. "shut up."

matt: simply locks his legs around yours so you couldn't leave even if you wanted to. he traces lazy shapes on the back of your hand and his breath fans down over your neck. "miss girl..." "hm?" "were you aware that i loved you?" "ohmygoddoyoureally?" matt's hold tightens and his low chuckle rumbles through your skin. "you're terrible."

request to be on the taglist under this post right here

tags: @pinksturniolo @malirosee @st7rnioioss @nonat-111 @cindylcuwho @evie-sturns @h3arts4harry @fanficsbymia @dazednmatthews @sturniolo-rat @mattsmad @sturniolo04 @bellasturn @blahbel668 @yomamaslays4lyfe @stasiesturn @pleasantlycrazyworld @ariqolyx @wh0resstuff @krissy4gov @coochiedestroyer1 @solarsturniolo 

notes from bambi:

thank you for the request anon! i'm so sorry this took so long but i hope it was at least somewhat worth the wait, and i hope things get back on track for you soon <3

[alisblackgf]

hello lovely, hope all's good! May I request Hobie period comfort? Reader's started their period and is NOT felling good at all. They're just nauseous, have a horrible headache, back pain, boob pain, cramps, a slight fever (I get period fevers), and the list goes on. And he's feeling real bad for lovely? He comforts her, makes her favorite snacks, reads aloud to her so that she can nap.

If you get to this, thanks a bunch!!

(honey anon)

YES YES SURE OF COUrse! (thanks for requesting honey anon i hope to see you more in the future!!)

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: hobie brown x afab!reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff :)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: hobie takes care of reader during their period!

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: writing about this man isn’t enough i need to inhale him (i didn’t know if you wanted headcanons or a fic so i did a little bit of both!) also i tried to write him in his accent but it is so HARD and it looks kinda dumb so excuse that

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: the sickness section may trigger emetophobia (fear of vomit), viewer discretion is advised!

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬

if you two just started dating, he’d ask you the basic questions.

such as: what size pads, favorite candies, what you want him to do, etc.

but as time goes on, he’s on top of everything.

he remembers all of your preferences and favorites.

he’s fine with you being grumpy, he has a lot of patience for you and will do whatever you need him to.

“go away, hobie,” you groan.

“sorry, love, ‘m not goin’ anywhere.”

“my insides feel like they’re collapsing,” you complain, hugging your stomach and curling into fetal position.

“i know, doll. li’l ol’ hobie’s here to fetch whatever your heart desires.”

“li’l ol’ hobie?” you laugh, forgetting your grumpiness for a second, which makes him smile.

he did mean what he said, though. he will get you anything.

if you like being read to sleep, he’ll get an assortment of books that you like.

he’ll read them to you at your very request! just say the words.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧

if you’re experiencing pain, just tell him where and he’ll massage the area for you.

if your chest is too tender to massage, he’ll just cuddle you and rub circles into your back.

however, if your pain is intense, he’ll go out and grab you some pain killers.

he’ll even buy you a heating pad should you need it (you probably do).

“(y/n), ‘m back. got you some stuff, too.”

“really?”

“yeah, got you some ibuprofen and a heatin’ pad.”

he loves taking care of you and he loves that you let him.

he’ll probably even say some stupid jokes to make you laugh (and they’re probably not funny).

his reasoning is “laughter is the best medicine”.

if you don’t laugh, though, he’ll tickle you.

so laugh.

𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

if you get fevers, he’ll wet a rag with cold water, fold it, and put it on your forehead.

he gets you fever medication, mainly tylenol because he assumes you wouldn’t like the taste of the liquid medicine.

if you feel nauseous, he’s there rubbing your back and comforting you.

he tells you to let him know if you’re going to vomit so he can accompany you.

if you do end up vomiting, though, he’s right there with you.

if you have long/medium-length hair, he holds your hair back as you do your business into the toilet.

if you have short hair, he rubs your back.

whatever length hair you may have, he praises you.

“there you go, dove, let it all out,” he coos.

when you’re done, he gives you a cup of water.

𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬!

it’s nighttime, and hobie was urging you to sleep. even though your body was practically wrapped around him (which was usually all you needed to fall asleep), the pain kept you awake. you were already facing him, looking over the features you adored so much. he was resting peacefully, you really didn’t want to wake him up, but you really couldn’t sleep.

“hobie?” you asked, attempting to wake him up.

“mm, yeah, love?” he mumbled, half-awake. he was so cute you could almost laugh.

“sorry to wake you, but could you read me to sleep?”

“mhm,” he responds. “gimme a sec.”

his willingness to do what you asked without questioning it made butterflies swarm in your stomach. he groggily got up to go retrieve a book.

“want anythin’ in particular?” he asks you.

“no, surprise me.”

he nods and picks one out.

he sits down on the edge of the bed as you get snuggled back under the covers. as he begins to read, you find yourself more relaxed than ever. hobie must’ve loved you to death with the way he was caring for you, so you made sure to let him know you felt the same.

“i love you, hobie.”

he stopped reading and looked at you. your eyes were already closed and your breathing steady. he smiled at your resting figure.

“i love you too.”

UGH i love him

tags: @pr0wlerpunk

[wasabidottie]

The man in the yankees cap part two?!

For some reason, you found yourself still hanging out with him. You couldn’t explain it, really. Normally, you’d be polite, maybe share a coffee, then go your separate ways. But with Schlatt, something was different. His sarcastic quips, gruff charm, and that ridiculous, messy Yankees cap—it all had you hooked in a way you weren’t prepared for.

A few hours had passed since you met, and yet here you were, strolling down the street, laughing more than you had in ages. You’d tried desserts, debated over music, and even gotten into a passionate argument about the best fast-food fries.

“You’re wrong, by the way,” Schlatt was saying, finishing the last bite of the donut you’d gotten him to try. “Waffle fries are a crime against humanity.”

“They’re not a crime,” you shot back, feigning exasperation. “You just don’t have taste.”

“Hey, don’t go questionin’ my taste,” he replied with a smirk, flicking a crumb off his shirt. “I’ve got taste for days.”

“Yeah? You sure about that?” You gestured to his cap, his hair still all over the place beneath it. “Because the jury’s still out on that.”

He glanced at you, deadpan. “Are you just obsessed with my hair, or what? You keep bringing it up.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m fascinated by it, honestly. Like, how does one even get that messy?”

He grinned, running a hand through his hair. “Natural talent, baby. Can’t teach this.”

You shook your head, smiling. “I’m sure.”

There was a comfortable silence as the two of you continued walking, and you caught yourself thinking how easy it all felt. The conversation, the teasing—it was almost too natural, like you’d known him longer than just a few hours. It felt strange, but in the best way.

Then, Schlatt broke the silence.

“So, uh,” he started, a little more serious this time, though his voice still had that playful edge, “you gonna gimme your number, or what?”

You blinked, surprised, and immediately let out a laugh, thinking it was just more banter. “Oh, sure, sure. That’s cute.”

His face didn’t change, though. He raised an eyebrow, looking at you dead-on. “I’m not jokin’, sweetheart.”

That caught you off guard. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “What? You think I spent all day with you for my health? I want your number.”

You tilted your head, half-smiling, trying to gauge if this was some new level of sarcasm. “This isn’t part of the bit? Because you know we’ve been going back and forth for hours…”

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Listen, I’m an asshole, yeah, but I ain’t gonna mess around about that. I like ya. You’re fun, you’re not boring like the rest of these vanilla drinkers out here. And I’m not tryna let this be some random ‘one day and done’ thing.”

You stared at him for a beat, thrown off by his sincerity. “Oh. Wow, okay.” You laughed lightly, more out of surprise than anything else. “Didn’t expect that from you.”

“What, a guy can’t be serious every now and then?” He smirked, though you could see that he was being completely earnest, even if he couldn’t resist adding a little jab. “I’ll admit, I like messin’ with you, but that’s just ‘cause it’s fun. Doesn’t mean I’m not interested.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” you trailed off, biting your lip to suppress a grin. “I thought you were just, I don’t know, playing along with the banter.”

“I mean, I am, but c’mon, you think I’m gonna spend hours with someone who annoys me?” He gave you a look. “You’re funny. And you keep up. That’s rare.”

“Rare, huh?” you echoed, smirking.

“Don’t push it,” he warned, but there was no bite to his words. “So? You gonna give me your number, or am I gonna have to make an entire presentation on why I deserve it?”

“Oh, I’d love to see that presentation,” you teased. “PowerPoint slides and everything.”

“I will find a way,” he said, eyes gleaming. “I’ll even put animations in there. Little star wipes and shit.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Alright, alright. You’ve convinced me. But I still think you’re messing with me.”

He sighed dramatically. “Jesus, you’re tough. I’m not used to havin’ to work this hard. Usually, I just smile, and they fall at my feet.”

“Is that so?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe you’re just losing your touch.”

He placed a hand over his heart, faking a wounded look. “Now that’s just cruel. Here I am, layin’ my soul bare, and you’re kickin’ me while I’m down.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face. “Fine, fine. I’ll give you my number, but you better not use it just to send me bad memes.”

“Oh no, you’ll get the highest quality memes. I’ve got a collection,” he said, grinning as he pulled out his phone. “Now hurry up before I change my mind.”

With a laugh, you grabbed his phone and quickly entered your number, handing it back to him with a playful smile. “There. Happy?”

He glanced at the screen and smirked, tucking his phone away. “Very. You’ll be hearin’ from me. But only after I figure out how to get the taste of that god-awful candle drink outta my mouth.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Nope. It’s permanently scarred me,” he said dramatically, but then his tone softened just a bit, that same sincerity from earlier creeping back in. “But hey, thanks for hangin’ out today. Wasn’t expectin’ to have this much fun.”

You smiled, feeling a little warmth spread through your chest at his words. “Yeah, me neither. You’re not so bad... when you’re not being a complete jerk.”

“Wow, I’m touched,” he said, clutching his chest again. “Real heartwarming stuff.”

You both laughed, and as the conversation faded into comfortable silence again, you realized just how much you were looking forward to hearing from him. The day had been unexpected, but in the best way. Something about him—gruff, sarcastic, and all—just clicked with you. And if that meant more bad jokes and playful insults in the future, well... you were all for it.

Schlatt shot you one last sideways glance, his grin softening just a bit. “Don’t go ghostin’ me now. I might actually have to put effort into seein’ you again.”

“Oh, the horror,” you replied dryly, but your smile betrayed you.

He tipped his cap. “I’ll text ya.”

As he walked off with his usual swagger, you couldn’t help but watch him go, a grin tugging at your lips. Yeah, this was definitely something.

Note: OKAY OKAY OKAY!! FIRST THINGS FIRST! I don't for a second believe Schlatt would hate waffles fries. In fact I'm sure that man goes crazy for waffle fries. But you know what. I also feel like that man has some crazy hot takes on food just to have them. So I'm taking out my anger about him putting krave in the B tier in his cereal tier list. That shit stung so now I'm trashing his name. ( I'm literally writing fanfiction about him, what am I on about) Okay so I'm yapping a lot but it's really late and I have to be up way too early for class tomorrow because I decided signing up for an 8 am would be a great idea. But real talk it's been a really great couple of days being back to posting on Tumblr, I honestly thought I was done writing on here forever but after all the love you guys have been giving my posts it actually makes me excited to write again :') sorry I'm getting sappy, night night everyone

-dottie

[karasukarei]

Wind Breaker Drama CD vol. 1 – Fuurin, Memories of a Summer (Part 1)

I received a translation request for the drama CD that came with the first anime DVD/Blu-ray, thank you! It's quite long so I'll be doing it in sections. You can listen to it here!

I'll just be doing the script, if there's anyone keen to time it with the audio feel free to hit me up! Video editor found!

Translation masterpost here!

Note: I took some liberties with translations this time to make it read more smoothly. As always, if there’s any mistakes, feel free to let me know!

Shorthand because some names are really long:

Sakura – Sakura

Nirei – Nirei

Suo – Suo

Sugishita – Sugi

Kiryuu – Kiryuu

Tsugeura – Tsuge

Hiiragi – Hii

Umemiya – Ume

Scene 1 – 0:09~3:14

Nirei: Wahhh!

Tsuge: The blazing sun! The sparkling waves!

Nirei: This is the feeling of summer!

Tsuge: Kuu, I’m getting excited!

Kiryuu: How are they so full of energy? I’m about to melt~

Suo: Ahaha! It’s definitely really hot today!

Hii: They’re probably the kind to use up all their energy in the morning. (t/n: not quite sure if I heard this right; feel free to let me know if this is wrong!

Kiryuu: Nirei-chan, those are trendy sunglasses!

Nirei: Ehehe, I like this style! Eh, I’m getting too carried away, aren’t I?

Suo: I think it’s fine to go for a different vibe from usual! Of course, the usual Nirei-kun is great too!

Nirei: Thank you very much! (t/n: WHAT A PURE GOOD BOY)

Sakura: *grunts of anguish*

Hiiragi: Sakura? You’ve been quiet since just now, what’s wrong?

Kiryuu: Oh yo~? (t/n: THIS IS SO CUTE THANK YOU TOSSHIIIII) Sakura-chan, your face is all red, are you ok?

Tsuge: Do you have heat stroke?! You can have some of my special sports drink to replenish your fluids!

Suo: It’s all good! Sakura-kun doesn’t have heat stroke!

Nirei or Tsuge (edit: Thanks @/pikiiro!): Really?

Suo: Yup! He probably just can’t take the surrounding atmosphere.

Nirei: Surrounding?

Kiryuu: Ooh~ (t/n: this is with a cute down intonation <3) There’s a couple there, there’s a couple there, ah, there’s also a couple here.

Nirei: Speaking of which, it seems that this beach is popular as a date spot for couples!

Suo: You’ve just become embarrassed, haven’t you Sakura-kun!

Sakura: DAAAAAAAAAA

Kiryuu: Sakura-chan is so cute~

Sakura: Shut up!

Hiiragi: You guys shut up.

Suo: Ah yes. Hiiragai-san, thank you for inviting us today!

Hiiragi: It’s fine, sorry for the short notice. Umemiya suddenly asked to invite you all.

Nirei: But it’s amazing isn’t it! He won first place in a lucky draw at the shopping street!

Hiiragi: That guy does tend to win these lucky draws… (t/n: Ume-chan can you gimme your luck for my ichiban kuji draws)

Tsuge: It even comes with a stay at the inn, I’m all fired up! (t/n: I can’t hear exactly what he said, it was either 2 or 3 nights’ stay. As for the inn itself, think of it as renting out a summer house where you can do whatever you want, it’s not a ryokan where there are people at your beck and call.)

Sakura: Anyway, where is that Umemiya?!

Suo: Now that you mention it, he hasn’t come yet.

Hiiragi: That guy, he’s late again… (t/n: rip Hiiragi’s stomach)

Ume: Hey everyone!

Nirei: Umemiya-san! Good morning!

Ume: Sorry about making everyone wait!

Sakura: You’re (“omae”) the one who invited everyone you shouldn’t be late!

Sugi: It’s not “omae”, it’s “Umemiya-san”!

Ume: Sugishita, don’t fight here ok? (t/n: he sounds like he’s talking to his pet dog LMAO)

Sakura: Also! Why is this guy here?!

Kiryuu: That’s true, Sugi-chan seems to hate stuff like this…

Ume: I invited him! Since it’s summer, let’s do stuff befitting our springtime of youth! (t/n: ok I took some liberties with this translation, but I think this sounds cooler)

Sugi: Thank you very much for inviting me.

Ume: I told you guys when you entered the school right? “This summer let’s all go to the beach!” Don’t you guys remember?

Sakura: He was serious about that?

Hiiragi: This guy is always serious.

Ume: I invited Kaji and gang too but they had plans today… next time it’ll be all of Fuurin!

Nirei: Isn’t that a tall order?

Ume: Anyway let’s get into the sea! Don’t you guys find it hot just standing around here?

Hiiragi: We were waiting for you!

Ume: Oh yeah, that’s right!

Hiiragi: *groans of acidic anguish*

Suo: Hiiragi-san, it’ll be nice if you won’t need to use your stomach medicine today ^^; (t/n: reading back on this it sounds as though he’s telling Hiiragi not to use his medicine. It’s closer to “man, I sure hope you won’t end up being forced to use your medicine today” – I hope this makes sense x_x)

Nirei: Ah, hahaha…

Scene 2 – 3:14~4:59

Hiiragi: I think we can leave our stuff here.

Nirei: Eh, is that so, Sakura-san?

Kiryuu: Hmm, what is it, what’s up?

Suo: It seems that this is Sakura-kun’s first time at the beach!

Tsuge: That’s rare!

Sakura: Is it that bad? It’s not like I had any reason to come anyway…

Ume: Isn’t that fine! Since it’s your first time, it means that you can start to have fun here from now on!

Sakura: *gulps of embarrassment*

Ume: Hehe, make memories together with us. Hey everyone, let’s go!

Sakura: Oi, don’t pull me!!!

Kiryuu: Ooh- They’ve left.

Hiiragi: *sighs* You guys go too.

Nirei: Hiiragi-san, aren’t you going?

Hiiragi: We need someone to watch our stuff.

Nirei: Then I’ll stay behind. We can’t leave Hiiragi-san to take care of our stuff!

Hiiragi: Don’t sweat on it, we can take turns later.

Kiryuu: Ah, I’ll be staying behind so it’s ok~ I’m not going into the sea~

Tsuge: You’re not, even though we came all the way here?

Kiryuu: Hmm, I don’t like getting all stick from the seawater, and I also haven’t cleared my login bonuses today~ (t/n: this man has his priorities right)

Nirei: As expected of Kiryuu-san, your resolve is firm!

Tsuge: He’s displaying his virtue here! (t/n: the literal translation was “I can smell his virtue” but it’s… kinda weird lmao)

Suo: I’ll be staying behind too.

Nirei: Suo-san, you too?

Hiiragi: By the way, you guys are wearing parkas on top of your rash guards, isn’t it hot? (t/n: think of a light beach jacket, not a literal winter parka)

Suo: I don’t want to get sunburned!

Tsuge: Oh, that’s a virtue too! That’s great, I want to learn more about everyone’s virtue!

Suo: Eh… aren’t you going into the sea? (t/n: I see what you did there Suo)

Tsuge: Oh yes! Come Nirei-kun, let’s go!

Nirei: Yes!

Hiiragi: For crying out loud… I’ll be leaving our stuff to you guys.

Suo: Of course! Please take care!

Kiryuu: Everyone has so much energy~

Suo: Yes, it does seem that way.

[whalesforhands]

what’s yours is mine (6/?)

previous masterlist next

pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru

You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.

What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse AU)

You always thought that there was something off about your dearest friend. Something that you just can never be sure of no matter how much you watch him, no matter how much you scrutinize and prod at his cheek with a deductive finger and a furrow of your brows.

It’s like finding the secret twist like in that one detective show. You gotta look hard, look deep into someone; something to really find what you’re truly looking for.

Because it could be right in front of your very eyes.

“Mhfm?” Geto Suguru is tilting his head at you through a spoonful of ice cream, letting you examine him carefully to the fullest of your ability just as you pinch one of his cheeks in between surveying fingers.

Pinch. Pull. Pinch. Stretch it out lightly. Let go.

He swallows as you grab his nose, squeezing lightly and feeling the cartilage sink under your touch.

Squishy.

“Is… There something on my face?” He blinks at you, squeezes his eyes closed when you start to squeeze a little harder with a cute frown that was teetering on a pout, with his voice amusingly nasally from your actions.

Yet, despite all that, you can’t seem to put a finger on it at all.

“Probably ugliness.” Gojo Satoru’s crude remark is heard from within an impish giggle, his lips smeared with cold ice cream as he licks the remnants away with a nimble tongue. “Ya looked in a mirror lately?”

“Nope,” Geto Suguru replies, irritation evident in his tone as his eyebrow starts to twitch, the smile still holding strong on his face as he feels you twirl a strand of his hair. “You’re around me so much that they all start breaking by themselves.”

And the air tenses, silence permeating before it breaks into yelled insults.

“Ya offended me, so you have to gimme all your ice cream!”

“Haaah?! That doesn’t make any sense at all, you greedy scammer! Y’er gonna lose the rest of your teeth!”

“Kimi-chan said it was just my baby teeth falling out!”

(It’s true. There’s a hole in your mouth right now from where you had spat out your tooth after a pretty bad fall yesterday.)

Such is the relationship between your friends. You guess that it isn’t so bad even when they practically start glaring at each other as Gojo purposely lunges for a jaw-dropping, comically large bite of ice cream that wasn’t his.

Narrowly would he have tackled you had it not been for Suguru pushing you away, the force toppling you over and making you now lay down uselessly upon your back, staring up at the ceiling of your own room and watching the sway of your ceiling lamp as you hear the both of them gasp, a spoon clattering onto the tatami of your floor just as little feet rush over to you.

“(n-name)?!” Worried and panicked as a bandaid covered hand smooths over your face.

“Oi, look what ya did!” Rough and jittery.

“I did it cause you’re dumb and blind!” Irritated and fretful.

These ones are easy to tell, easy to see exactly what they feel. So… You think they’re getting along exceptionally well these days. Especially when your eyes begin to stare up at their worried faces and prodding questions.

It makes you think harder than you did just moments before. Maybe it was a good thing that the back of your head was hit so hard.

“Everyone has their own secrets,” She began, pulling at its sleeves and smoothening out the wrinkles upon the damp shirt as it flutters out, the water having been wrung out thoroughly. “It’s only a matter if you find out or not.”

If you find out, huh? Mama says it’s rude to ask someone outright. Yet, it’s not enough of an answer to deter you.

“But what if I really, really wanna know something, Mama?”

“I suppose…” She glances down at you briefly as another pillowcase is pinned onto the clothing rack, the brand new, softer fabric starting to billow in the soft wind. “They’ll have to decide for themselves on whether or not they want to tell you.”

That’s annoying. Your shoulders slump and you pout, your foot continuously giving light kicks to the basket of clothing pegs as you squeeze the elastane plastic currently in your hand.

“But I’m sure that if you both were close enough,” She begins again just as your hand plops another pin onto her open palm. “They’d tell you outright.”

That gives you hope, you suppose. Only a little.

“Do you have any secrets, Mama?” It’s your curious eyes and small grin of mischief that catch her eye first as you hear her give you an inconclusive hum in reply.

The last of the laundry flutters with the wind, your knees bending and your hand reaching for the final clothespin to hand off to her as she stares off into the sky for a little bit, a certain look in her eye that you can’t exactly put your finger on but swear that you’re just upon the tip of discerning—

Before you feel a hand on your hand ruffling your hair as you blink, breaking you out of your train of investigative thought.

“Not at all.”

(“But I know you snuck a bite of the cream puffs I bought before dinner.” You feel a tap to your nose when she squats down to be eye level with you, a gasp of shock and your hands immediately slapping over your mouth a little too late.

How did she know?! How did she find out?! You even learned how to close that flimsy, silly little cardboard back correctly and as neatly as possible! Is your Mama a mind reader—

“You had cream on your nose all this time, dear.”)

You don’t know how to go about it, so you ask the next person you trust the most in this whole wide world.

Maybe that was your first mistake.

“Hah?” Gojo Satoru is staring up at you through those long eyelashes as he makes you pat his head, your hand smoothening out those rough strands of cloud white as you sit on your legs to better accommodate to his, admittedly, hard to discern whims.

(Mama did say he was ‘clingy’ after all.)

Maybe your pillows are just too cheap for someone so rich like him, too low quality to even be considered acceptable for his standards… Which is why he always has to make do with your lap despite how your legs start to get really tired after being stuck like this right after waking up.

(But if it’s for your friends, you’d do a lot of things for them. Even if you think your legs are gonna go numb and fall off…)

“I don’t know anythin’ about that uggo!” He’s quiet for once, finally learning to keep his voice small in these early mornings when the sky is still trapped in a dim blue and the sun had only started to peek over the horizon to say good morning to the world, his shiny eyes watching you lazily blink your bleary sleepiness away.

It’s one of those early weekend mornings where it would be just the both of you, the whirl of your fan beside your futon, those partially drawn curtains and breakfast that Kimiko-san had brought over sitting upon your kitchen counter downstairs.

(Mama is very grateful for Kimiko-san. You’ve seen her bow so profusely to her as she pushes the nicely packaged bag of tea she bought just yesterday with you into the maidservant’s hands before she left for work the other day.)

“Are you both still fighting?” You hear him whine just that little bit more when you rub against that spot near his ears, palms moulding into his scalp and your fingers scratching against the parts he usually gives in at— The parts that make him much more susceptible to talk even if he was being stubborn and puffing his cheeks at you.

“Hmph…!”

You’re actually… Kind of relieved Suguru isn’t here to retort back. It’s too early in the morning, and you’d feel really bad if he woke up too soon.

He needs to sleep well to keep his prettiness. That much you’re sure of, when you compare him to your cute friend who wakes up too early in the morning to come hang out with you, anyway.

“You shouldn’t be angry, Satoru.” Your thumb pokes at the crease between his brows to make him relax them before your arms shift to be hugging around his head, the soft scent of his expensive shampoo in your nose as you close your eyes and gently relax.

“You’ll make me sad.”

And that has him going limp in your hold, tension leaving his body as he watches your face from the corner of his eye.

You’re stupid. And dumb. And stupid stupid stupid stupid—!

“W-well I’ll forgive him if you don’t invite him over today!” He’s stuttering through his cute cherry cheeks, alight with a red so sweet you think he might actually turn into a cherry himself. “Ya h-have to hang out with only m-me today!”

That does sound a little unfair on Suguru’s end. So you compromise.

“Then can we go to his house later then? Geto-mama said her husband got some souvenirs from Hakone.” And a lot, too.

He stops complaining— Starkly silent as you continue to hug your cute friend. He feels so nice to hug.

You’re using his biggest weaknesses against him and it isn’t fair! So he has to actively contemplate, weighing the pros and cons as your cheek rubs so softly against him…

“How to get your friend to listen to you?” Your Mama blinks at you as she turns away from the TV that was still playing, head inquisitively tilted to the side as you blink back at her.

You think she has an inkling of what— And more specifically, who you’re talking about. She lets out a chuckle when she notices you’re staring at her too intensely, hyper focused on her answer as you waited with bated breath.

You really need to listen to her advice.

“You don’t actually have to try much, sweetie.” She shifts a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, smoothening it down and combing through it slightly. “Just be yourself.”

“F-Fine!” He huffs and puffs and pats your hand, a signal for you to let go, thoroughly embarrassed now that his entire face was ablaze with a hot blush.

You didn’t glean anything about Suguru from him after all, but at least you know he likes your shared pretty friend more than he lets on.

(He wouldn’t have agreed so readily otherwise, even with the promise of snacks.)

So you confide in someone else who would definitely know more than you. Someone who you trust more than you do yourself… Even if he ranked like— 7th on the list after Sailor Moon and Pikachu.

(You tried talking to them through the TV screen. They don’t really seem to be replying… They’re too busy being heroes like you, after all.)

“How to get your friend to tell you somethin’?” He’s raising a brow at you as his legs spread far too wide and take up way too much space, a yawn escaping his too big mouth and making the scar on his lips even more prominent than it already was… All whilst you were the one with his beaten up book bag settled on your lap that you had picked up after he unceremoniously tossed it aside.

“How the hell would I know?”

You’ve resorted to asking him for help as you let the leather of his bag settle upon you, your thighs jutting it up every few moments or so as you play with it. It’s surprisingly light, as if it didn’t have much— Or anything inside of it.

“You look smart.” You blink up at those dull green eyes of his, fingers playing with the metal buckles and watching as he tussled with his own hair when he practically rolled his eyes at your reply. “So I wanna ask you.”

“Well kid, do I look like a fucking—“ He clicks his tongue in realization at his wording, taking a breath in through clenched teeth and glaring down at your curious blinking eyes before averting his gaze, fingers moving to be pinching the skin between his brows as he lets out a deep sigh.

Exasperatedly. As if he gave up.

“Shi— Fine.” A roll of his eyes as they drift off to the side, as if he was thinking for a little bit as you sit beside him with your legs hanging off the ledge of the wooden bench you were both seated on.

You win. He’ll hand down all his secret knowledge to you now to let you gain experience points.

He‘s mostly quiet even when he’s not all that deep in contemplation, only a few grunts here and there when he finds himself staring into the setting orange of the sky.

(Adults must really like doing that. You’re glad you already have one thing in common with them. Can you be an adult now too?)

“Just beat their asses. People are easy and will tell ya anything when they’re on the ground tryin’ not to piss their pants.” He ends with a bit of a deranged chuckle as you watch how his curled up fists began to twitch.

He’s… Definitely scary-ish. If you cared to put enough thought into how frightfully intimidating this almost adult is, anyway.

(For some reason, you aren’t scared of him at all…)

A blink. And another as you try to process his words clearly. You don’t really get it. Violence won’t solve much in the long term, and you’re not exactly open to roughing it up with anyone…

“But what if I don’t wanna beat up my friend?” Now you’re the one frowning, lips turned downwards and brows furrowed together as you clutch his bag closer against your chest.

Oh, how it scares you to even think about messing up Suguru’s pretty face… How would you ever admire it anymore?!

“Oi, I gave ya a solution. Quit whining.” There’s a rumble in his throat, dismissive disdain and annoyance in his tone as he pulls out his cellphone, lifting the cover up to reveal a cracked screen as he mashes on buttons that you don’t really know how to use well.

“If you’re gonna complain, just pry it out of him yourself, you brat.”

Pry… It out yourself? And… If he likes you enough he’ll tell you… He’ll tell you if you tried. Try. Oh. Ohhh. Ohhhh!

And you’ve jumped up onto your feet, carefully making sure his dusty bag didn’t fall to the dustier ground as you hold it above your head in celebration, a wide grin on your face and your eyes sparkling in victory, showing off the bag as if it were a grand prize you had obtained through arduous competition.

“Mister, I always knew you were smarter than you looked!”

(“The fuc— Hell is that s’pposed to mean?”)

——

“Oh hello! How have you been, dear?” Geto-mama is the one that’s greeting you this time around, patting her hands dry on her apron, already squatting down the moment she had spotted you and opening her arms up with that cooing look on her face.

You indulge her, despite that mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“My! You’re always such a sweetheart to me!” You can feel her heartbeat pick up just as she squeezes you to her chest, your cheek resting against the soft fabric of her shirt as you blink. “Gotta thank your Mama for raising you so cutely! I don’t need to make a daughter if I already have someone as adorable as you are, dearie!”

There she goes talking again, with your face pressed inbetween her soft chest no less. It feels really nice though.

Her boobies are so big…

“Gosh, it’s only been a few years but you already look so grown up! I wonder just how many years I have left before I won’t be able to pick you up like this anymore!” You feel her practically swing you around when your feet leave the ground. “Goodness me, you are so cute!”

You tune her out, patting her back lightly as she squeezes you ever impossibly closer. Geto-mama is so strong. You hope to grow up as healthily as her when you get older.

“Are you here alone today? Suguru’s off with his Papa to the market for a bit.” And she has an arm supporting your bottom, cooing at you with a blissed out look on her face as she carries you to the living room.

“Mhm. Satoru can’t come t’day.” He’s busy with extra lessons, learning… Um, you think it was an instrument. You tug at the strings with a stick and put your chin on the tiny guitar.

“Oho~? Then how about having a chat with an old lady while waiting?”

Sounds like a plan. You don’t have anything else to do today anyway. And you can’t exactly play Suguru’s board games by yourself, that’s no fun.

“Okay. And you’re not old, Geto-mama. You look like you could be my older sister.”

(Mama told you any lady would be flattered if you said that.)

“Oh my goodness me! I could faint just by listening to you compliment me!” A hand to her forehead for the added dramatics. “I’ve got some banana teacakes and some senbei! Which would you prefer, darling?”

If Suguru is the only one coming later, then…

“Senbei, please.”

(“Oh, you’re so darling and polite! I simply cannot stop swooning over you!”

Mama did say Geto-mama had her heels over her head for you once. You don’t know what that means, but you assume it must be pretty good if she fusses over you so much. Like one of those kind, but slightly overbearing grandmas in the shows you watch.)

You’re blowing away the steam from the piping cup of warm milk in your hands, a slight mustache from the remnants of the drink upon your upper lip as you poke your tongue out to lick it away.

“And then Suguru helped Kanade-san get up even when he could’ve ran past him.” You pause momentarily to recount the time a little more. “Kanade-san is a super fast runner, and everyone thought Suguru was gonna lose, but then he actually won.”

You take another sip as you let out another relaxed sigh.

“Suguru’s really cool.” And that is a given fact. He’s the coolest. Only Satoru could only come in a close second to be cool-lier. You’re really happy that you can call yourself his— Their friend.

“That… I’m assuming Suguru has been treating everyone well, then?” She’s smiling as she watches you snack on the rice crackers, her elbows on the table as she hums.

As well as he could be anyway, you think.

“Mhm. Suguru’s really polite. But I also told him that he needed to look out for people that will want to wish ill on him due to conflicting interests.” Your legs kick as you miss the way Geto-mama’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head from your nonchalant little advice spiel, taking another hearty sip of your milk before continuing.

“That’s what the zodiac sign lady on TV said about Aquariuses-es.”

A sigh of— Relief? From her.

“Ahaha, more from that astrology column you love so much, huh? You’re quite the attentive one, sweetie.” She smiles as her eyes close, a little chuckle leaving her. “I should be less worried, but I just can’t help it even if you’ve been such a good influence on him, dear.”

And she has every right to be, you’re pretty sure.

Geto Suguru did not get off scot-free after that little incident with your classmate. Disciplinary action was taken, parents were called in, and Suguru couldn’t come to school for a good 3 days.

But you don’t know the details other than that. Only heard those flying rumours that you didn’t pay much attention to as you walked past your chatty tables of your classmates.

“He broke Tachibana-kun’s hand…”

“He’s so violent!”

“My cousin from another town over said there was a really violent boy who looked really similar to him when I showed her my class photo—“

“Ehhh? No way, that couldn’t be Geto-san! When I talked to him he was so nice and polite!”

“Yeah, but! My cousin showed me a kindergarten photo and it looked just like him!”

“My mother did say that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover…”

You don’t care. You don’t care because ‘Listening to dreadful words that had no substance would lead you down a path that will not converge with what you wanted’. According to your zodiac sign that day, anyway.

But you believe it regardless.

“Geto-mama,” Your eyes watch her carefully, watch how her shoulders slumped and how her eyes shone with that characteristic confidence and how the way she carried that sure air always surrounding her.

“How has living here been?”

And she only smiles at you.

“Oho? Not going to ask why we moved here in the first place?” It has been a good 3 years since they moved in. There’s no use dwelling on the past if it’s all the way back then. “You didn’t ask even when we first moved in here, you know?”

She’s curious why you don’t pry.

You won’t care about such things. The past is the past, and Mama doesn’t like bringing up the past. The past is a secret you have to unlock with time, with careful prying and precision if you truly wanna know.

So you nod, blinking up at her with your eyes that spoke your truth, your now empty plastic cup tapping against the coaster as you settle it down and reach for another rice cracker from the bowl.

(Geto-mama prepared an even number of snacks. She’s so thoughtful.)

“Everybody’s got secrets. It depends on ‘em if they wanna tell or not.”

(Hehe. You sound like your Mama. You’re really proud of yourself for that.)

“Is that so?” She laughs again, an amused glimmer in her eye and a hand over her mouth as she hears the crunch of the senbei you were chewing on.

“Then I hope Suguru lets you know his secrets soon enough.”

The door clacks open, the telltale ring of the bell signalling that it had been unlocked as you hear the shift of those sturdy reusable bags Mama often uses to avoid the ¥10 extra charge on plastic bags, with a couple sets of shoes tappin against the stone genkan floors of the Geto house.

“Mama! We’re back!” His voice calls out with so much familiarity as you hear slippers clacking against hard ground. “Papa bought too many tomatoes cause they were on sale!”

“Already outing me to your mama, huh?”

“Ehehe.” His eyes cast downwards to better kick off the slipper that had accidentally clung to his foot— Ah, it’s getting so annoying to take them… Off?

Strappy sandals. Well-worn, straps undone with fraying ends and certainly, a very familiar set of sandals.

You. Were you already here? When did you come? Did you eat yet? How long have you been alone with his mother?

Regardless of all his thoughts, all his questions. One thing is for certain as he finally gets the stubborn shoe off running past his poor Papa trying to gather the bags as he runs down the hall and into the living room.

He’s excited to see you.

“Mama! Is (name) here?!”

And he spots you, so cheerily chewing on one of the hard rice crackers as his mother watches with a hearty smile that looked a little too smug.

“Oh my? Not going to help me and your Papa with the groceries?” And she’s already pushing back her chair as Suguru pouts at her.

“I can do it— Later.”

“Oh~ And if I don’t have any groceries for you to pack later?”

Hmph…

“I can help.” You’re speaking through the dry senbei you had just swallowed as your eyes lift up and off the table to meet his already staring purple that practically shone so bright. “Then Suguru and I can play together sooner, right?”

You’re so kind. So sweet. So nice to him.

“Ahaha, it’s alright you two. Have fun.” And she leaves. Geto-mama finally leaves as his feet practically start moving by themselves towards you. To be closer to you, to be near you.

“Hi.” He smiles at you, so softly and so sweetly with his eyes upturned into gentle crescents and his cheeks rosy red. “Did my mama talk ya ear off?”

He sounds almost out of breath. Shy.

It’s not the same boy the rumours in your class float around about at all. You’re super sure it isn’t as you let him take your hand to help you off the chair.

He doesn’t let go.

“I like your mama, though.”

And while you were always the one being asked to give hugs to Satoru— You just can’t seem to stop yourself from asking hugs from your Suguru as you squeeze his palm and stare at the sway of his bangs.

Hmph… He didn’t hug you yet.

“Suguru.” You tug at his hand when he’s humming, climbing onto his couch and signalling for you to follow suit as you start to pout.

“Suguru…”

“Hm?” He’s too busy staring down at your intertwined hands, a bit of a dopey smile on his face as he swings it back and forth.

He looks so happy.

So you don’t wanna interrupt him.

“What do you wanna do now?” Even if you’re pouting and sad that you didn’t get a greeting hug. You’ll settle for the handholding, you guess. Sigh.

“Well… Satoru might wanna watch Digimon right now.”

Uh— Huh? He’s not wrong, but… Satoru isn’t here right now. It’s a habit you’ve noticed… A lot actually.

“Satoru won’t like that.”

“You’re going to make me— No, Satoru mad if you talk to that boy.”

“Do you and Satoru like this a lot?”

As much as you’re happy that he likes your clingy friend a lot— It doesn’t help you learn enough about the your pretty neighbour; Geto Suguru.

Geto Suguru who likes to keep his hair long, Geto Suguru who has pretty purple eyes, Geto Suguru who likes to pet the neighbourhood cats, Geto Suguru who likes to eat cold soba…

There could be so much more that you don’t know about him.

Ah. You found it. That’s what’s been poking and prodding at your brain so often about Suguru. The way he tried so hard to please you.

“No.” You’re shaking your head as your eyes look from the cupboard amassing his various board games, to his television and to the unfinished plate of rice crackers and back to those confused; unsure amethyst eyes.

“What do you wanna do?”

“But—“ He sounds uncertain— Unsure and choked and slightly… Afraid?

“Your Papa’s a Beta but your Mama’s an Alpha?” The sandpit felt a little too crowded today after his presentation on his family. A little too many people for his liking as they bombard him with questions.

“My daddy says that your Papa’s so lucky to be able to marry and train an Alpha!”

He doesn’t see what’s wrong with how his family loves and cares for each other. Who cares? They like each other, and that’s enough.

“Ehh? An Alpha who plays mommy to take care of the house? What kind of Alpha is that? My mother says that Alphas are better in the adult job world!”

Who cares? His mama is happy with her life. And that’s enough.

“Right?! Maybe Geto-kun’s mama is defectiv—“

“Shut up!” A blinding fistful of sand, a tackle and two bodies crashing into the dusty sand box as punches fly and tears drop.

“You can’t say that about my mama!”

Geto Suguru who hates others because they just don’t think like he does. They don’t get things the way he does, don’t see things the way he can.

There shouldn’t be a world for those snickering, sneering faces that don’t even deserve to be able to breathe. He knows, learned from such a tender, young age that people are cruel. That you could chase, and chase after their adoration as much as you liked; only to have it crash down within the next moment.

Geto Suguru saw no point in making friends when his parents started packing their bags when the rumours about their violent child started spreading throughout the neighbourhood. Geto Suguru who got in the car and sat so eerily quiet for hours on end.

Geto Suguru who finally started speaking to others again the moment he saw you hiding behind the curtains.

“I wanna listen to what you wanna do. Satoru’s not here so we can play whatever.” Your free hand taps against your still conjoined hands as you shift closer to him.

He describes you as weird, describes you as odd. There was no kid back at his original neighbourhood that would hide from him the moment he laid his ‘gentle’ eyes on them. No kid who would go out of their way to try to be as accommodating as possible whilst being oddly— Awfully silent with pursed lips and an awkward look in their eye.

“…even if you don’t like what I’ll say?” It’s safer to just stick to what he already knows you like. You like Satoru, you like staying at your house, you like your Mama… Don’t dislike him. Don’t hate him.

Your head tilts to the side in confusion. “I like you.” That’s a good response you think, your nose picking up on a change in the air and catching a glimpse of a sheen of wetness in his eyes. “So I’ll definitely like what you wanna say.”

There was no kid out there who was so unabashedly like you. He just can’t help it— Seeing you struggle makes him soft and icky and gooey inside. He thought hanging out with you once would cure that ache to want to talk with you, would rid him of this odd intrigue about you.

But now— All he hopes is that you won’t hate him.

“And what if…” You think his voice is growing smaller and smaller. “You don’t like me anymore because of something I said?”

Hmm…? That’s never happened before though. You think for a little bit as you stare off to the side and let your head loll and rest on his as you feel him shudder.

But you know he’s not recoiling from you. The air feels sour, shaky. It doesn’t feel comforting as usual as you hold his hand tighter and think harder.

“Then I’ll just make friends with you again?” It will be tough on your end, and you’re not sure if he will take you back, but it’s sure worth a shot if it comes to him.

A stifled giggle— And sudden choked laughs.

You think you finally managed to make him smile again.

“Hahah…! What is that even supposed to mean, you dummy? Ahahah!” He’s still holding onto your hand as his head turns away from you, tips of his ears burning red and a quiet sniffle that you almost missed.

“You’re so stupidly kind, (name).”

And you learned that Geto Suguru can be crass, can let loose and say absolutely anything behind that facade of his. That, despite being so soft, can grow so tough and spiky that it was hard to get him to change his mind.

Maybe that’s why your two friends can get along so well.

Because they’re just so alike.

previous masterlist next