#youre telling me i can die over and over and i just come back??

[sugucide]

two weeks.

it's been two weeks since kento has been inside of you. He's gone months, hell even years without sex before he met you and he was fine. he didn't even wish for it like most of his bachelor counterparts did.

but now that he's had a taste of you? two weeks may as well be a death sentence. which is ironic, giving the nature of this sex ban. everything you do is inviting: maybe it's just his underworked sex drive or maybe he's reverted back to his teenage years because he sure does feel like an impatient, entitled brat whenever you walk past him.

he can smell you. not the smell of your perfume you spritz on each morning. not the product in you hair. not the moisturiser you use. but you, the scent of your self, your body, the skin he's so often inhaled as he bit down between your thighs or up the column of your neck. he can smell the memories of sex, sweaty and tangled in pheromones and all things primal.

he can hear you. not your words or laughter or the way you hum absentmindedly when you're pottering around the house. he can hear that sharp little intake of breath when you accidentally, or not-so-accidentally, brush against him. he can hear that whining tinge to your voice when you tell him you won't sleep with him, that you're punishing him, as if its moreso a punishment for you than him. he can remember the way you'd moan for him, desperate and glassy eyed and oh so perfect for him as he ruins you from the inside out.

he can't take it anymore.

"two weeks is more than enough time for me to think about my actions," he tells you over dinner one night, eyes cast downwards at his plate. "...and to come up with a suitable apology."

you place your chopsticks down at his last words and look up at your husband. "oh? let's hear it then."

over the frames of his glasses, kento's eyes meet yours. "i apologise for worrying you and risking my life for my work."

you tap your fingers against the table. "and will you continue to do it?"

"yes," he admits. "it's my job, one that i do well. if i die doing it, i hope it's in place of someone who didn't sign up for it, like you."

kento reaches over the table and takes your hand. "i can't just stop being a sorcerer. that would be too selfish of me. but i do promise that i will make more of an effort to reduce my chances of getting hurt from now on: no more unnecessary risks. okay?"

though that was all you needed to hear from him, you start to wonder if lifting the sex ban was a good idea when your pent-up husband is swiping plates from the dinner table to make room for you to lay back on it. claiming he can't wait the few extra second to carry you to the bedroom, he has you stripped and laid bare on the dining room table in no time, and he's ready for his meal.

"missed her," he mumbles as he parts your legs with a strong hand and bends down to kiss once at your clit. that's about and gentlemanly as it gets, though, because soon after he's making out with your pussy like he's a virgin. no technique, no precision, nothing but unfiltered need and its so much hotter than you'd imagine it to be.

eyes locking onto yours from between your thighs, he adds two fingers and works you open. two weeks was a long time for the both of you, so he'll need to get you used to the stretch of him again. he scissors his fingers inside of you, curls them upwards to hit your g-spot and smirks like a saint when your back arches off the table in response.

"missed you ken," you ramble on as your climax nears. "missed you so much. hated doing this. love you. loveyouloveyou god i love you."

you cum hard, harder than you've cum in a long time and kento laps it up like he's never tasted anything so good. he savours your taste on his tongue like he would an aged wine, something expensive and delicious and worth keeping bottled. though he's harder than diamond and worried he'll cum in his pants if he doesn't sink inside of you soon. so he stands and undoes his belt in record time (with those lovely hands of his) and repositions you at the end of the table with his leaky cock already pressing against your wet entrance.

he leans over you and shares a kiss with you as he pushes in. he inhales the gasp you let out at the stretch and moans into your mouth as a gift in return. he pulls out almost entirely, so it's just his head nestled in your tight pussy, and then slams in again. hard.

"god kento—" you start, about to chide him for being so rough with you when you notice his face dip into your neck and the sudden warmth filling you from the inside. kento's hips stutter and he bites at the skin of your shoulder to muffle the heavy moans that ache to free themselves from his chest.

"did you just—"

"don't," he cuts you off, cock twitching inside of you with his release. he's plugging you up, keeping you full of him and his cum. "give me a minute and i'll fuck you so stupid that you forget that just happened."

"you just—"

"don't laugh."

"im not laughing! it's just, you know like our first time..."

"shut up." kento's hips pull away and then slam back into yours as he starts a brutal pace with you.

that shuts you up good.

[astarless-fights]

A question I have always had: Do people care about the border because someone tells them they need to be concerned? Do they ever see proof? Or speak with someone who lives down there? Is it actually an issue or are people coming in and paying taxes, beefing up towns, and taking a part in the community? Is illegal immigration actually bad or is it a complex issue that is both good and bad and non local medias are just giving you a basic interpretation to have a talking point? Let’s dive deeper.

I have heard OP’s thoughts here before and it’s always come from border towns and border city limits. Which always tells me something else is going on.

Because here’s the thing, media reports and political agencies always misreport and misrepresent things that happen across the country. I have a couple examples as someone who comes from the East Coast but has had the pleasure of working in western states.

1. Remember when they introduced the wolves to Yellowstone in ‘95 and the media updated us back in 2016 “oh there’s wildflowers coming back! And the water is clean again”? I got that propaganda too on the East Coast. And sure, the good stuff probably happened. But wanna guess what I found out that year when I eventually shipped out to Idaho and spoke to wildlife biologists on the rivers?

They introduced the incorrect subspecies of wolf. Instead of using the historic Northern Rocky Mountain Wolves, they introduced a much larger, well traveling wolf called the Northwestern Wolf. The NRM wolves were small and tended to stick to a territory which would have been perfect for what they were trying to do for Yellowstone and the area surrounding. Instead they added a much hungrier wolf that follows its meals across the region, fucking up the ecosystems and wildlife patterns in surrounding states. Wyoming, Idaho, and Montana already had a pretty decent Rocky Mountain Wolf population that could no longer source its meals consistently due to wildlife patterns shifting dramatically, so they started going after the farms. Which if you are not someone who pays attention to wildlife laws and regulations, is the worst thing that could happen for them because farmers hold a lot of political power and often lobby local governments to increase population regulation (ehem, kill em).

2. When that kid died at Disney World… the one with the gator attack? Yeah, that was awful. I come from the southeast and growing up with gators nearby was a common experience for me. I was out in Idaho watching the news when it hit breaking news. The western media proceeded to push ideas that gators are controllable, it’s Disney World’s fault for not putting gates around the whole property to keep them out. It’s Florida’s fault for allowing this to happen.

Sure, should a gate have been placed around that beach? Totally. From working in tourism my whole life, the number one thing I have learned is that tourists are generally ignorant of local knowledge and common sense. I don’t mean this in a horrible way… but people forget they can die on vacation and tend to act as if it’s not possible so they disregard a lot of warnings. The gate would have been specific to people though. Gates don’t stop gators.

In fact they can climb. They can climb over a wooden gate, a chain link, climb up a tree, climb up the stairs… they are the largest vermin. They know no rules or boundaries. If there is water, they are there and they will find away to be there. It is common sense for those in southern coastal states to not go near the water at feeding times, watch the water, maybe keep your distance. If there are warning signs, then there’s definitely a gator that frequents the area but if there’s no sign, then there still is when no one’s watching. Western US media made it sound like they should have killed all the gators off and that just is so ignorant of the sensitive Floridian habitat. We need them there and in georgia, in south carolina, in Louisiana, and alabama. We need them in that ecosystem.

I remember listening to my boss at the time and my coworkers who had just listened to what I had were already shooting off the mislead comments of what the reporters had brought to light. Mostly because they didn’t know gators. They didn’t know Florida. None of them had ever been down there so when information is presented by a trusted source, why not trust that it’s correct?

Yes I explained to them before the topic left. But my observation still stands. Media that is not local to the topic will misconstrue the topic.

So when I see the LA fires and the east coast media telling everyone “the reason is due to them not taking control of their wilderness”, I want you to think of this post, what I have heard and seen with my own eyes, and search for a local reporter to the topic. Because I guarantee it is more complex than that.

Or when you see the border crisis and you aren’t from the border and neither is your favorite news channel… find a local news report to the topic.

If you see something being reported on from across the nation and you are not local, do yourself a favor and check out local to the topic reports. You’ll get more correct information instead of talking points used for political needs.

there is no border crisis. there is no immigration crisis. there never has been. it’s fear mongering, xenophobic, racist propaganda.

sincerely,

a life long borderland resident

[aerichives]

study buddies

aeri uchinaga x reader

genre. eventual smut

warnings. cunnilingus, fingering, choking (lmk if there's anything i missed)

words. 2481

note. heyyy bbgs :3 i literally did that exact scene when i was studying earlier but the difference was... there is no aeri :"( anwww i hope it's not obvious that im really into friends to lovers or to whatever trope LOOOLOLMLMLKM

the library was eerily quiet, save for the soft shuffling of papers and the occasional sigh from a stressed student. y/n and aeri had been holed up in their usual study corner for hours, surrounded by coffee cups and highlighted textbooks, the weight of their upcoming finals pressing down on them.

both nursing students, they had spent the last few weeks drowning in endless notes on medical and surgical nursing. the exhaustion was setting in, but y/n had always been the type to find something to keep her curiosity piqued. and today, that something happened to be asphyxiation.

the highlighter in y/n’s hand hovered over the page, the neon ink already smudging the edges of the text she’d been poring over for the past hour. finals were looming and the library’s fluorescent lighting was doing little to keep her alert but something in their notes had caught her attention.

"strangulation" she murmured, tapping her pen against the heading. "this one’s interesting."

across from her, aeri, who had been lazily skimming through her own notes, quirked a brow. "you have a weird definition of ‘interesting,’ you know that?"

y/n barely spared her a glance, already engrossed in explaining. "no, listen. it’s not just about suffocating. if you apply pressure to the carotid arteries, it cuts off oxygenated blood to the brain instead of blocking the airway directly. it can cause unconsciousness in seconds. that’s cool."

aeri let out a soft laugh. "you sound way too fascinated by this."

"because i am!" y/n grinned before suddenly sitting up straighter, an idea flashing across her face. "actually… we should try it."

aeri blinked. "come again?"

"on me." y/n tapped her neck lightly. "you find my carotid, apply pressure, and i’ll tell you what it feels like. a hands-on demonstration."

aeri stared at her, half-expecting her to burst into laughter and say she was joking. but y/n was staring back, eyes expectant. "absolutely not. what if you pass out? or worse?"

y/n waved off her concern. "i’ll tap you if i start feeling weird. come on, it’s for science."

aeri sighed, raking a hand through her hair. "this is a terrible idea," she muttered, but she was already shifting closer, positioning herself in front of y/n. "if you die, i’m not writing your final paper for you."

y/n grinned. "noted."

aeri reached forward, fingertips ghosting over the column of y/n’s throat as she searched for the rhythmic thrum of her pulse. once she found it, she hesitated, her thumbs resting lightly on either side of y/n’s neck. "last chance to back out."

y/n only nodded, lips parting as she took a slow breath.

aeri applied pressure.

at first, nothing. then, y/n’s lashes fluttered, her lips parting just a little more. the muscles in her neck tensed beneath aeri’s hand and something about the way she looked up at her, head tilted back, eyes unfocused, breathy, made aeri’s stomach tighten.

shit.

this was supposed to be an experiment. no malice, no ulterior motive. but aeri could feel the way her pulse quickened, not from nerves, but from something much deeper, much worse. y/n’s lips looked glossy under the library’s dim lighting, her expression dazed yet trusting. aeri’s fingers twitched with the abrupt and inappropriate thought of what it would feel like to do this in a completely different setting.

in bed, maybe. with y/n pinned beneath her, mouth parted just like this—

aeri inhaled sharply, pushing the thought away before it could settle.

y/n tapped her wrist, signaling the end of the experiment. aeri immediately released her, exhaling sharply as y/n took in a deep breath, blinking a few times before breaking into a grin. "that was insane," she murmured, rubbing her neck. "i definitely felt it."

aeri didn’t respond right away, too busy pressing her palms into her thighs, willing away the heat pooling in her stomach. "yeah," she said, voice slightly strained. "insane."

y/n, oblivious, launched into her findings, excitedly recounting the sensations she experienced. aeri nodded along, pretending to listen, but her mind was elsewhere. her gaze flickered back to y/n’s throat, now sporting faint imprints of her fingers, and she swallowed hard.

this was bad. because now, all she could think about was doing it again.

-

the final exam was over, and relief settled over the two of them as they stepped out of the hall. both y/n and aeri had been buried in stress and exhaustion for weeks, and now that it was finally behind them, they were ready to unwind.

"so, where do we go now?" y/n asked, stretching her arms over her head, the exhaustion of the day catching up with her.

aeri groaned. "honestly? i just want to sleep. pay back all my sleep debt from the past weeks."

y/n chuckled. "that's nice but you live an hour away."

aeri sighed, rubbing her eyes. "don’t remind me. i might actually pass out before i even get home."

y/n hummed, then nudged aeri playfully. "then crash at my place. my apartment’s only a fifteen-minute walk from here and we can grab food along the way."

aeri considered it for a moment, the idea of a nearby, comfy bed quickly winning her over. "you know what? that sounds perfect."

after a stop at the convenience store for snacks, they made their way to y/n’s apartment. as soon as aeri stepped inside, she sighed in relief, dropping onto the sofa and stretching her limbs. "i think i might die here."

y/n laughed, heading to the kitchen. "i’ll get the food ready. here, you should change into something comfortable first." she tossed aeri a shirt and shorts before disappearing into the kitchen.

aeri hesitated before taking the clothes to the bathroom. the moment she pulled y/n’s shirt over her head, the faint scent of her. clean, warm, unmistakably y/n, hit her senses. her pulse quickened slightly, thoughts she shouldn’t entertain creeping in as she quickly changed.

when she stepped out, she nearly choked.

y/n was lounging on the couch in a low-cut tank top, her collarbones and bare chest exposed. aeri quickly tore her gaze away, trying to focus on anything else.

they ate in comfortable silence, the exhaustion from the exam settling in deeper. once they finished, y/n stretched and grabbed aeri’s wrist. "come on, let’s sleep. my bed’s big enough for two."

aeri shook her head. "i’ll take the couch or even the floor, seriously—"

y/n rolled her eyes, pulling her along. "you need a real bed. just shut up and come."

the moment they laid down, aeri realized the bed wasn’t nearly as big as y/n had claimed. they were close, so close that aeri could feel y/n’s body heat radiating against her.

then without warning, y/n shifted, wrapping her arms around aeri and snuggling in. "what are you doing?" aeri stiffened.

"just hugging you. you’re warm and comfy." y/n mumbled sleepily.

aeri stayed still as she stared at y/n, feeling her heartbeat quicken. she forced herself to breathe evenly, trying to ignore the way y/n felt against her. 

minutes passed and just as aeri was about to finally sleep, y/n suddenly stirred, eyes fluttering open. aeri tensed, caught in the act of staring.

"are you okay?" aeri asked, voice a little too tight.

y/n yawned. "yeah, just fell on my sleep you know."

aeri exhaled, chuckling softly. "silly. go back to sleep." she reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from y/n’s face.

y/n smirked. "not until you tell me why you were staring at me."

"i wasn’t. that was your dream."

y/n pouted, shifting slightly. "you’re so obvious. you were looking at my lips. do you want me or something?"

aeri’s breath hitched. the teasing lilt in y/n’s voice was dangerous, and she wasn’t sure she had the willpower to brush it off.

"and what if i do?" aeri murmured.

y/n grinned, her hand slipping behind aeri’s neck, tugging her closer. "maybe..." she mused, "i’ll mark you here so everyone knows you’re mine."

aeri’s throat went dry. "what..."

"relax," y/n giggled. "i’m just messing with you. you’re so red right now."

aeri swallowed, the heat coursing through her too intense to ignore. and she was done ignoring it.

before she could second-guess herself, she rolled them over, straddling y/n’s thighs, hands pressing into the mattress. y/n’s eyes widened slightly, but there was no hesitation, only intrigue.

"and i’m not kidding when i say i do want you."

y/n’s breath caught. "what..."

aeri leaned in, voice low. "what if i do want you to leave marks on my neck, y/n?"

the air was thick with something unspoken, tension crackling between aeri and y/n like a live wire. aeri’s grip on y/n’s hips was firm but hesitant, fingers twitching against the fabric of y/n’s top. her restraint was evident, her breath unsteady as she struggled to keep her hands from wandering any lower, from touching y/n’s bare thighs where heat radiated between them.

“you’re so pretty…” aeri rasped against y/n’s lips.

y/n grabbed a fistful of aeri’s hair to close the gap between them and kissed her. a sigh slipped past her parted lips, her resolve thinning as aeri sucked her lips gently.

“we should stop,” aeri murmured, though her fingers curled against y/n’s waist as if anchoring herself. her words lacked conviction and y/n knew it.

“what if i don’t want to?” y/n whispered against her ear, voice laced with something intoxicating. when aeri pulled back slightly to meet her gaze, her pupils were dark with desire. y/n’s flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and the way she was breathing so heavily, it all undid aeri.

“yeah?” aeri’s voice was strained, like she was holding back something dangerous.

y/n bit her lip and nodded. that was all it took. “you don’t know what you do to me,” aeri muttered, breath ghosting over y/n’s lips. her free hand slid up y/n’s torso, groping at her chest as a soft moan escaped against aeri’s mouth.

“aeri…” y/n whined, grinding down against aeri’s lap, desperate for more friction.

aeri chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down y/n’s spine. “so needy.”

y/n grabbed aeri’s wrist, guiding her hand up to her lips before taking her middle and ring finger into her mouth. her tongue twirled around them, coating them in warmth, gaze locked onto aeri’s as she hollowed her cheeks.

“please,” y/n breathed against aeri’s skin.

aeri’s restraint snapped. eyes darkening further as she tugged at y/n’s top, pulling it over her head and tossing it aside. the way she looked at y/n sent heat pooling in her stomach, her gaze tracing over y/n’s perky breasts, her hardening nipples.

“so fucking beautiful,” aeri murmured, voice thick with want.

her mouth was on y/n before she could respond, lips wrapping around one nipple, sucking and biting, leaving behind bruises that would have y/n blushing in the morning. her tongue flicked over the sensitive bud and y/n arched into her touch, fingers tangling in aeri’s hair, tugging when the sensation became too much.

“tell me what you want, baby,” aeri rasped, her thigh pressing between y/n’s, the firm muscle rubbing against her clothed heat. y/n gasped at the pressure, her hips rocking forward instinctively.

“want you to touch me” y/n whined, breathless.

“where?” aeri teased, dragging her fingers down y/n’s stomach, hovering just above the waistband of her panties.

y/n huffed in frustration, gripping aeri’s wrist and pushing her hand lower. “Everywhere.”

aeri smirked, slipping her fingers beneath the thin fabric, feeling the heat and wetness that awaited her. “fuck…” she exhaled and y/n squirmed under her touch. “you’re soaked.”

her fingers slid through y/n’s folds, gathering the slickness before she brought them up to her lips, sucking them clean. y/n clenched at the sight, the way aeri’s tongue swirled around her fingers making her throb between her legs.

“look at you,” aeri murmured, eyes drinking y/n in like she was something sacred. “prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen.”

y/n shuddered, heat crawling up her neck. “aeri…” she whined, shifting in anticipation.

aeri chuckled, her fingers parting y/n, gaze fixed on her glistening entrance. “so desperate for me.”

y/n gasped when aeri’s tongue traced a slow, deliberate path from her entrance up to her clit, her lips wrapping around the swollen bud to suck lightly. y/n’s thighs trembled around aeri’s head but her hands kept them open, held her still as she devoured her.

“aeri—fuck!” y/n’s hands buried themselves in aeri’s hair, pulling her closer, needing more.

aeri hummed against y/n, the vibrations sending another jolt of pleasure through her body. “taste so fucking good,” aeri groaned, pressing a kiss against y/n’s inner thigh before sliding a finger into her, slow and careful. y/n exhaled shakily at the stretch, hips bucking into the sensation.

“gonna push another in, okay?”

y/n nodded frantically. “yes, please.”

aeri smirked, slipping in a second digit, curling them just right, hitting that spot that had y/n’s back arching off the mattress.

“right there, huh?” aeri mused, repeating the motion, watching as y/n’s body trembled beneath her. aeri groaned low in her throat before sitting upright, fingers wrapping gently around y/n’s neck as she pulled her in for a searing kiss. the pressure wasn’t harsh, just enough to make y/n dizzy in more ways than one, just enough to have her pulse stuttering beneath aeri’s palm.

“aeri—oh my god” y/n gasped, her stomach tightening as her release built, creeping up on her with every stroke of aeri’s fingers and with a new sensation of being choked. 

“gonna cum?” aeri asked, voice dripping with satisfaction. “gonna make a mess all over my fingers?”

y/n whimpered, legs shaking, the coil in her stomach on the verge of snapping.

“go ahead, baby,” aeri coaxed, voice muffled against y/n’s soaked core. “wanna see it drip.”

and with a cry of aeri’s name, y/n came undone, pleasure crashing over her in waves as aeri worked her through it until she was a panting, trembling mess beneath her. y/n gasped when aeri removed her hand on her neck. aeri pulled back slightly, watching y/n catch her breath, her chin glistening with her release. her dark eyes locked onto y/n’s, and she smirked, voice husky when she murmured,

“bet you’ll let me choke you again, huh?”

[m00nchildwrites]

Rafayel if you got a kitten- headcanon

If you got a cat, 100% Rafayel would act absolutely betrayed at first. However, after the cat Butler event, we know that he is capable of being around them, getting along with them, and even in his own way, liking them. Although he would absolutely die before he ever admitted that.

So I have a headcanon. If you were to get a cat at first, he would say that it was a betrayal - that you were choosing cats over fishies. He would be super dramatic about it, an absolute pouty baby. When you ask him if he can watch the kitten while you are on missions lasting more than 1 day, at first he acts as though you're taking advantage of him and his soft spot for you and inviting in a dangerous monster into his home without any care for his safety or Reddie's safety. When you say never mind, you'll ask someone else. He scoffs and says, of course, he'll watch the little beastie ( the nickname he's taken to calling it). He is your boyfriend, after all. You can rely on him, but tells you which flowers to lay on his grave and what song to play at his funeral. And that you owe him extra cuddles for the trauma.

But after the first week, you catch the cat sniffing his fingers, and this time, instead of pulling away in revulsion, he freezes cautiously, and let's it happen.

You lean against the wall, a small smile playing at your lips, "Caught you in 3D, Raffie."

He jolts as though caught doing something scandalous, which to him, you guess he had.

"What! No! Now hold on, cutie," he stands brushing himself off, "Let's not get any wild ideas. I was merely testing Beastie to see if he'd take a bite if tempted."

You sigh shaking your head before going to press a kiss to your silly boyfriend's cheek, "Raf, I am not naming my kitten Beastie."

He leans into your kiss before pouting as you pull away to lean down and give your kitten pets hello. Rafayel crosses his arms, "I don't see why not. It fits the little beast."

"Raf."

The next week, you witnessed the same thing unfold, but this time hesitantly, slowly, cautiously as if approaching a wild beast that might snap at any moment, his long slender fingers extend and carefully, gently, just barely graze the top of the cat's head. Barely enough to be considered a pet, but the cat closes its eyes and purrs happily either way. Rafayel freezes, and then let's add a little snort and moves away as if offended or disgusted, but you know, it's just a front. You caught the tiniest of smiles on your boyfriend's lovely face before he remembered himself and went back to his act.

Then, as though suddenly overnight, you come to pick up your kitten, only to find it purring happily at Rafayel's feet as he stands or walks about his studio. Or you find it sitting on a ladder that he pulled up next to his as he paints on a large canvas, purring as it watches his brush move across the canvas. You catch him talking to it, asking it advice on colors, and then scalding its reply in an imaginary conversation. Your beloved boyfriend gesturing animatedly, flinging flecks of paint from his brush as he does, as your kitten sits next to him and slow blinks. Rafayel freezes, arms midair, and stares a strange mix of scandalized and touched all over his face. He drops his arms and stares back at the cat and then slowly, blinks back. When the kitten then let's out a happy chirrup before noticing you and running over, Rafayel runs over to you too eyes lit up.

"Do you realize what just happened, cutie?" He asks as he picks you up slightly and spins you in a hug in greeting. "I read in a book that slow blinking is a cats way to say they love you. I'm a real hero for fishies everywhere, cutie. I've gotten a cat on our side. He is practically a cat-fish now, yeah? Our little beastie loves me, cutie."

You giggle, arms wrapping around his neck as his excitement fills your with warm, "But I thought all cats were evil monsters? Are you sure the fishies will think you are a hero and not a traitor?" You tease.

He scoffs and sets you down, "I'm the God of the Sea. If I say Beastie is okay then he is okay."

The following week you finally had a few days off. Packing up your things you and Beastie (yes the name stuck) headed over to Whitesands Bay for a few days spent with Rafayel. Upon arriving, you grabbed the few boxes that had been delivered and dropped at the door and headed inside with Beastie walking obediently on his harnessed behind you. Rafayel had been especially proud of harness training you're a little kitten. After all, he needed a way to safely let him have walks on the beach without risking his safety.

Upon entering, you were swept into a hug by your excited boyfriend, who showered your cheeks and face with kisses, "Finally, cutie! I thought I was gonna dry up like a starfish left out in the sun before you got here."

You give him a loving kiss on his lips with a giggle, "Silly Fishie, I told you I had to finish laundry first. But we are here! Oh, these were on your steps." You hand him the small packages.

Rafayel's eyes light up, " Oh, excellent, they came in just in time. Grab Beastie and come in here," he leads you both to his couch. "I got these custom made!" Opening the smallest package, he takes out a small blue collar. It was lovely. The material looked like repurposed kimono silk, and the little golden tag dangling from it was shaped like Reddie. On the tag read, Beastie, in a beautiful font.

"Oh Raf! It's so cute!"

"Of course it is, I designed it," he preens under your praise.

Beastie seemed to enjoy his new collar very much, as well as his scallop shaped pillow bed that had been in the other package.

"Just wait until the rest arrives!" Rafayel grins.

The following day, you and Rafayel and Beastie were in the front yard of his studio home letting Beastie play in the grass when a delivery guy arrived. You watched in dumbfounded amazement at the sheer number of packages and boxes he was struggling to unload. You could hear his grumbling from the flowerbed where your picnic blanket was laid out.

Rafayel stood to help the poor soul who was fighting with the Gate and now walking up the path to the door. He failed to see the pair of you apparently, because when Beastie ran up to him and meowed a greeting, the delivery guy kicked out his foot pushing him away with a snarl, "Get back you pest!"

Rafayel was there in a second, eyes blazing and dangerously sharp as he scooped up Beastie, cradling him to his chest protectively, "Don't talk to my fur son that way."

As the delivery guy bowed and rained apologies, you don't think you've ever been more in love with Rafayel than at this moment.

"Fur son, huh?" You grin as the three of you snuggle into the couch a mid an array of opened packages, cat trees and treat and toys.

He huffs, head resting in your lap, Beastie asleep on his chest, your hand in Rafayel's hair and his hand scratching gentling behind the purring sleeping kittens ear, "Obviously. We are a family, cutie. Might as well get used to that."

You smiled, butterflies let loose in your stomach, "I think I can get used to that."

[bbywriter]

amateur | c. sturniolo

summary: back in LA, nick and chris, your long distance boyfriend, stumble upon a silly little vlog you left them from boston.

pairing: christopher sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings: just some cutesy fluff

notes: ahh hi everyone this is my first ever fic! i’m kinda nervous but also really excited, pls let me know what u think <3

word count: 800

———

It’s late Thursday night, and Nick is buried in editing their upcoming Friday vlog. This week’s video compiles the boys’ most recent trip back home to Boston. While scrubbing through the raw footage, he stumbles upon an unexpected clip—one clearly not meant for the final cut.

The video begins with you holding the camera, your voice uncertain as you fiddle with the buttons. “Uh… I don’t even know if this is recording properly,” you say, the shot capturing nothing but your slightly out-of-focus bedroom. The camera wobbles a little before the clip abruptly ends. Nick smiles, calling over his brother. “Chris, come look at this.”

Chris gets up from his seat at the dining table, curiosity pulling him towards his brother in the living room. He settles beside Nick on the couch before the next clip plays. This time, your face appears on the screen as you hold the camera an arms length away. “Good morning guys—Oh my god this quality is insane I can see every single one of my pores,” you mutter, leaning in closer to examine your skin on the tiny viewfinder. After a second, you abruptly flash a peace sign and pucker your lips, before laughing at yourself. “Ew, Nick please leave this out.”

Chris can’t help but smile, his chest tightening with an overwhelming fondness at the sight of you. The soft Boston sunrise filters through the open blinds, washing your room in a warm, golden light. Sunbeams stream gently from behind you, casting a soft halo around your face. You’ve clearly just woken up—your voice is still heavy with sleep, your hair tousled, and your eyes half-closed. But even through the screen, despite it all, you have Chris completely captivated.

The video continues into your makeshift vlog, where you update the camera on your plans for the day—attending a 10am lecture followed by a three-hour lab that starts at 1pm. Halfway through, you get sidetracked by a story from last week’s lab, laughing as you recount how your friend accidentally burnt her eyelash extensions from holding the Bunsen burner too close to her face.

Chris already heard this story the day it initially happened, but he could listen to you tell it a hundred times again. Watching the way your eyes literally smile before the rest of your face follows, and hearing the sweetest sound of your laughter—he could never get tired of it.

The clip stretches on for nearly six minutes as you get distracted by all the little things you suddenly remember you want to share. Finally, you circle back to the reason you’re filming in the first place—explaining how you found the camera in your purse while searching for your wallet to put in your backpack.

“Chris, you must have forgotten it in my purse when you dropped me off yesterday, but I’ll just give it to you guys when I see you later. But yeah… how was your guys’ day?” you ask, fully leaning into the content creator persona. It takes a second of realization before you cringe, your nose scrunching with visible embarrassment as you cover your eyes with your free hand. “I’m literally talking to this camera like it’s gonna answer me. This is so weird, I don’t know how you guys do this.”

Chris lets out a soft laugh, finding your struggle for something that’s second nature to him so endearing.

You sigh softly and glance off-screen. “God I really hope that all recor—oh shit, ‘battery low, please connect to power’,” you read off the viewfinder. “Oh I think it’s gonna die soon. Okay, bye guys! Chris, bye baby! Love you, please text me if you saw this!”

You obnoxiously pucker your lips, leaning in to kiss the lens with a dramatic smooching sound, but just before it lands, the camera cuts off as the battery gives out. Chris stares at the screen, his heart swelling so big in his chest it feels like it would explode.

Nick nudges him, giggling. “Dude, she’s so bad at this.”

“Shut up,” Chris says, biting back a smile. “Send me those.”

“Wipe that stupid grin off your face, idiot.” Nick teases, but happily airdrops him the clips.

Chris immediately screenshots the last frame—a blurry but perfect shot of your goofy kiss. Without hesitation, he sets the photo as his new wallpaper, then finds your contact.

Baby: You should start a channel baby

Baby: Gotta teach you more about the camera though haha this vid was a little ridiculous

He sends the screenshot he took.

Baby: This was cute though

Baby: You’re beautiful

Baby: Love you❤️

Baby: Miss you

He sends the last message, knowing you’re back in Boston and likely asleep by now. Still, he can’t help but smile at his phone, already counting down the days until he can see you again. 

—

A/N: hi guyss :) this was just something quick i thought of, inspired by a clip from the boys’ vlog i came across the other day where madi was randomly filming their dining table or something lol. pls let me know what u think ahhh this is so fun!!!

[waynes-multiverse]

Am I excited for this? YES! How excited? VERY!!!

Gah, I've been really looking forward to this one! Love me some 40s and The Clock! 😍 (One of the reasons why I can't wait for Vought rising lol 👀)

Love how the first line of this story is an easter egg. You never cease to amaze me, Alex 🤓

Law Offices of Winchester, Bialystock & Bloom

*furrows brow* The Producers?? 🤔

Dean couldn’t help but curl a finger around a steel ball on the abacus sitting at the head of the mahogany desk, right next to Sam’s nameplate. He let it fly. The abacus began to clack as one ball hit the other. Sam looked up from the deposition he was writing to give his brother a wry brow raise.

Oh yes, we all remember that episode. Of course he would 😂 Poor Sam lol

If he was honest, entertaining young ladies was eating into the wallet in his trouser pocket, and the hustle and bustle was starting to be a little much for him.

Uh-huh... Dear Lord he needs help 🙈

Btw, I've been doing my own 40s research for a fic and came across the contraception question. Idk why but condoms and methods of that time freak me tf out. Wondering what your experience with that was (if you came across it) lmao 😂

Both of them had enlisted, but Sam had spent most of his time in London while he was deployed, helping British Intelligence. Dean had clawed his way out of Normandy, and later, out of the Ardennes—the last offensive before the end.

Ooof so rough 😮‍💨 PTSD and seeing all the dirty shit that goes on during a war is really brutal 😢 (My grandpa was in WWII and told a lot of stories when he was still alive)

And then they were seperated too and didn't even know what happened to the other. Heartbreaking 😭

“It’s still two minutes until closing. At least, according to my watch.”

The sass! Already love her 😂🩵

He subtly glanced down at your crème-colored blouse, neatly tucked into the long, burgundy skirt (with lipstick to match), your modest, classy heels, and the way you wore your hair.

*vibes* 😍 (even though I know MMM is set in 1958 lol)

He stood from the desk and switched his cigarette to his other hand, so he could shake yours.

You don't know how fucking weak it makes me that he smokes in this. That vice will be the death of me 🫠🔥

Dean glanced his way, his brow raising once again. Sam knew what he was thinking, just as he saw how you frowned as well. But there was a reason why he asked, and it wasn’t to be unkind.

Aww yeah, Sam's just doing his job. Not easy having a vagina in 1945 and dealing with dicks... 🙄

You had been slowly deflating the more he spoke, but now your expression became stony.

I get abusive vibes from shitty husband. There's more to it than cheating. Either he's emotionally abusive, physically or threathening to be. She seems like she wants to leave quick and quiet, fearing retaliation 👀

I loved how "damn" counted as cursing 😂 (Darn it!)

He was getting an idea of what kind of man your husband was, but Dean couldn’t be too sure of what the man was capable of. He’d hate to hear of a girl like you getting hurt over a few papers.

Yes, thank you!!! I knew Dean's spidey senses would turn on. (And I know that darn rat bastard can't hurt her now as long as soldier!Dean's around 💚)

“I was a sergeant, ma’am.”

Melted 🫠 (I legit die every time I write "Sergeant Shaw" in TCF, but I married a military guy myself, so makes sense I can't resist a uniform and a rank 😂🥵)

“He claims to be working late virtually every night of the weekdays,” you said, “but he usually comes home stinking of alcohol.” Your eyes dimmed, even with the pretty lights shining in them. “He was in the Army as well. A corporal. He’s had a hard time adjusting to being back home, and I know that… He doesn’t sleep very well. And do you know, he had a hard time finding work for a while too. Luckily, he has his father’s business to fall back on.”

I love the 1940s cadence, by the way! You can tell it's a different time period the way the characters speak, the words they choose, and how they phrase things. So well done, my friend! 👏👏

“He manages a meat production plant, of all things,” you said. “Ah, located in the Meat Packing District, I presume?”

Mama's smelling mob activity... 🤌

“Hmm. Guess I didn’t see the point,” he replied with a mild shrug. It hid a deeper, darker well inside him. The part of him that hadn’t thought he’d make it back home after the war.

Such a Dean statement lol

I do hope he won't feel so hopeless for long ☺️

“I was a nurse,” you said eventually, earning his attention. “I was there when they liberated Paris.” Dean turned to you with newfound interest lighting his green eyes. “You were at Normandy.” You nodded. “For a while. Almost a year before D-Day.”

Aww, they could've almost met. I love these little coincidences when people meet each other. It's fate 😍💕

“Because the fact of the matter is, Sergeant, words don’t move me anymore.” You picked up your gaze from the ground, and you met his. “Flattery is just a pretty way of lying, and I’ve grown to really, truly hate lying.”

I feel so bad for her. I hope Sam (and Dean) can help her soon and she can find happiness again 😢❤️‍🩹

“Hmm. No real loss there then.”  Your teeth clenched. “If I thought you were actually going to be home when you said you would, maybe I would make a rump roast with all the fixings.” 

The fucking nerve of that man... 🤬

Michael huffed, shaking his head. “Sometimes you got a real mouth on you. One of these days, you just might regret it.”

I'm too busy plotting a gruesome murder in my head to properly get into how much I despise that guy 😂🙈

This was such an amazing start to this series! The storyline is so intriguing and the world-building is, well... simply otherworldly. You really took me on a journey to the 1940s here. Speechless, honestly 🩵

I so can't wait to see what else you have in store with this, but I think there will be lots of yelling from me lol 😅

BETWEEN THE CITY & THE STARS - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: In the fall of 1945, Dean is having a difficult time assimilating back into civilian life after the War. He’s visiting his brother Sam in New York City, where he’s beginning to build up his law firm. At two minutes to closing time, you interrupt their evening to solicit a solicitor. Your request? You need help in order to divorce your husband.

AN: My day tomorrow is going to be a bit packed, so I decided to release this a bit early for you guys! So here we go! The first chapter of yet another new series, my first ever 1940s AU. 🥰 I hope you have fun on this one, because I sure did. Again, very much inspired by The Clock (1945), starring Judy Garland and Robert Walker. 💜

Prompt for @jacklesversebingo: Historical Epic

Song Inspo: For this chapter it’s “Cry Me a River” by Ella Fitzgerald

Word Count: 3.9K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, mentions of cheating, PTSD, historical tidbits

✨ Series Masterlist

🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 1: Legal Grounds

November 2, 1945

Dean idly read the pamphlet stacked with others on his brother’s desk, which advertised his new and successful enterprise.

Law Offices of Winchester, Bialystock & Bloom

What do you know? His brother had his own office, his own business, and his name on a pamphlet.

Dean couldn’t help but curl a finger around a steel ball on the abacus sitting at the head of the mahogany desk, right next to Sam’s nameplate.

He let it fly. The abacus began to clack as one ball hit the other.

Sam looked up from the deposition he was writing to give his brother a wry brow raise.

“So this is what you do, huh?” Dean remarked, crossing his arms.

Without his jacket, his suspenders were on display over his shoulders. His red pinstripe tie was still in place, but his white dress shirt was rolled up to the elbows. Meanwhile, his brother preferred to keep himself more presentable with his sleeves down to his wrists. Jacket on.    

Dean glanced around the office, nodding at the line of bookshelves behind Sam, framing him as the bookish academic he’d always been. There was limited seating in here though, just a spare chair in front of the desk, and another to the right of it. Dean stood on the opposite side.

“If you’re bored, all you have to do is say so,” Sam said. “Which is strange, considering we’re smack dab in the middle of a city that never sleeps.”

He was right, Dean could concede. His little brother had given him a veritable list of things to do in New York City: visit the park, go to the zoo, see a picture show, visit a nightclub, or sample a host of restaurants that Sam knew Dean would probably enjoy.

He’d seen a lot of this place in the week that he’d been here visiting Sam, but a good deal of it he’d either spent alone, or with any willing young lady Dean came across, thanks to the demands of this office. If he was honest, entertaining young ladies was eating into the wallet in his trouser pocket, and the hustle and bustle was starting to be a little much for him.

“You don’t get tired of it?” Dean asked, gesturing to the out there beyond them. “The, uh…the lights, the noise, all the people?”

Sam picked his head up from his paperwork to consider the question. “No, I like it. Keeps my mind busy, and…I guess it makes me feel alive, you know?”

Dean supposed he could understand that, so he nodded.

Sam wasn’t fooled though. He thought he could tell what was running through his brother’s head, watching him fidget, and turn his head a bit sharply when a bus honked loudly outside the office’s glass doors as it thundered past.

It had only been two months since the end of the war. Two months since he and Dean met back in their family home in Lawrence, Kansas after three years fighting on two different fronts, in two different countries.

Both of them had enlisted, but Sam had spent most of his time in London while he was deployed, helping British Intelligence. Dean had clawed his way out of Normandy, and later, out of the Ardennes—the last offensive before the end.

Their experiences might as well have been worlds apart, but one thing remained the same: it had been three years in which neither brother knew if they’d see each other again.

Now, Sam saw the signs. Dean seemed a bit jumpy, overstimulated, but willing to be here to spend a little more time with Sam before he went back home. Guilt prickled in Sam’s gut. 

“I’ve got some work here to finish up, but afterwards let’s go to dinner,” he suggested. “Maybe see a show?”

Dean’s lips flickered at a smile. “You’re burning both ends of the candle. You know that, right?”

Sam opened his mouth to reply, when there was a knock on one of the glass doors—at the entrance to the small building. Their heads turned, and through the open door of his office, they spotted you standing there in the evening light. You wore a wide-brimmed hat on your head and a scarf underneath, wrapped over your hair and under your chin to shield your face. You knocked again with a hand covered by a leather glove, more persistently.

Cocking his head in confusion, Sam stood from his desk and left the room to let you in. Dean hung back and sat on the corner of the desk to wait. He withdrew a cigarette from the pack and a lighter from his pocket as he did so, but he heard you talking with his brother by the door.

“I’m sorry. We’re closed, miss,” Sam informed you.

“It’s still two minutes until closing. At least, according to my watch.”

“…Well, I suppose you’ve got me there.”

“So can I come in? I need to speak to a lawyer.”

“You sure it can’t wait until tomorrow?”

“I’m afraid it can’t, sir.” Your tone was firm, and it more than implied that you wouldn’t be moved. Sam paused then, perhaps to take a steeling breath.

“All right. Come with me, please.”

You later followed behind him through the hallway and into the office. With a lit cigarette between his fingers, his arms crossed, Dean took note of you. He subtly glanced down at your crème-colored blouse, neatly tucked into the long, burgundy skirt (with lipstick to match), your modest, classy heels, and the way you wore your hair. His brows subtly raised. He’d met quite a few girls this week, but he hadn’t seen a lady like you in quite some time.

Should’ve shaved this morning. The thought was accompanied by the way he swiped a subtle hand over his prickly chin.

You gave him a cursory glance in turn, and offered a polite, “Hello.”

He stood from the desk and switched his cigarette to his other hand, so he could shake yours.

“Hey there. Dean Winchester,” he said. He offered a smile with no small amount of charm. “Pleased to meet you…”

You dutifully gave him your first name only. He found that a little strange, but you soon slipped your hand out of his and focused on the nameplate on the desk, followed by Sam himself.

“So you’re brothers,” you realized. “Do you work together?”

Dean scoffed. “Nope, I’m just here to distract him.”

Sam tossed him a sidelong glance. There was a subtle edge of bitter truth in there somewhere, and you didn’t seem to miss it. You looked between the two men, a hint wary.

“Well, as I said, I’m here to speak to the solicitor,” you said. 

“That would be me,” Sam nodded. He went to his desk and sat down behind it, gesturing for you to do the same in front of him. You obliged him, smoothing your hands down your skirt once you were seated. “How can I help you?”

You met his eyes with a directness that surprised him a little.

“I want to divorce my husband,” you said.

To say it shocked the room would be an understatement. Behind you, Dean gave his brother a pair of raised brows. Sam didn’t allow himself to react too much in order to remain professional, but he still tilted his head, blinking, before he focused on you again.

“What’s your husband’s name?” he asked.

“Michael. Michael Milligan.”

“Why do you want a divorce, Mrs. Milligan?” 

Here, your gaze fell to the folded hands in your lap. 

“I have reason to believe he’s been unfaithful,” you quietly replied.

Once again, there was a pregnant pause.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sam said. His sympathy was genuine, because he could see the way you’d hesitated to say the words, like they embarrassed you, shamed you, and saddened you all at once. 

“But I have to ask,” he added, “do you have proof?”

Dean glanced his way, his brow raising once again. Sam knew what he was thinking, just as he saw how you frowned as well. But there was a reason why he asked, and it wasn’t to be unkind.

You sighed. “What kind of proof?” 

“Pictures. Letters. A witness. Something of legal standing that we can use as leverage and as grounds to grant you a divorce, whether he wants it or not,” Sam said. 

You let out another heavy breath through your nose. “No, I don’t have anything like that.”

“Then what makes you so sure he’s steppin’ out?” Dean chimed in. By now he was leaning against the wall, off to the side where he could smoke with the window cracked open. It let in the sounds of cars and distant honking, people traversing the sidewalks. 

You turned in your seat to give him a tight look. “If you must know, there’ve been…signs. I won’t trouble you with the details, but I’m sure.”

You met Dean’s gaze, and then Sam’s firmly. 

“So will you help me?” you asked him. Sam nodded.

“Yes, I’ll look into your husband and try to find some evidence of his…extracurricular affairs.”

Your lips pursed. “And how long will it take?”

Since you were being so direct, Sam levelled you with honesty.

“It may take time,” he said. “Realistically, we’re looking at months, even after I find what we need… It would be easier to legally separate.”

You had been slowly deflating the more he spoke, but now your expression became stony.

“Mr. Winchester,” you began. “I don’t want to just be separated. I don’t want to live in our apartment, let alone share his bed or wear his last name.”

Despite your best efforts, your voice began to shake. Tears welled up and stung in your eyes.

“I don’t want anything from him, other than his signature on the damn papers,” you said. “The case is that I can no longer tolerate that man in my sight, much less in my life. Will you help me? Or should I look for another lawyer who will actually do his job.”

Sam and Dean shared a glance. For his part, Dean couldn’t remember the last time he heard a woman curse. Despite your outburst, the tears clinging to your lashes stirred both men.

“I understand, Mrs. Milligan,” Sam said. “I’ll help you. Don’t worry.”

He began to look for his handkerchief, but you retrieved one of your own from your purse and quickly dabbed at your eyes, sniffling. You were embarrassed.

“What about your fee?” you said, withdrawing your checkbook. “I, um…I have a little money stashed away. I’ve always worked, you see.”

Sam nodded and went over what his rate would be going forward. Once the two of you came to an agreement, you signed the first check right then and there, even though he felt bad for even taking it from you.

You were still sniffling, and twice you dabbed under your eyes to make sure your face was dry. When you handed over the check, your hands shook, just a little. Sam wouldn’t tell you that he discounted his usual rate.  

Again, he mentioned that he would need some time first to investigate your husband and begin collecting evidence for your case. He asked you for any documents you could safely bring him of your finances, for example. You agreed to do an investigation of your own.

“Just be careful,” Dean cautioned. He was getting an idea of what kind of man your husband was, but Dean couldn’t be too sure of what the man was capable of. He’d hate to hear of a girl like you getting hurt over a few papers.

Dean put out the bud of his cigarette on the ashtray lying on the windowsill. He pushed off the wall to approach where you and Sam were getting to your feet. You gave Dean a nod of acknowledgement.

“I will,” you agreed. “Thank you both. I’m sorry I’ve taken up so much of your time, but I’ll be heading home now.”

“Did you take a bus or a taxi?” Sam asked.

“Oh, I walked,” you replied, and you checked your watch as you gathered up your purse. You headed for the coatrack, but Dean got there first, helping you into your beige wool coat. It went nicely with the burgundy you had on, namely on your painted lips.

“Thank you,” you said to him, but you still didn’t smile. You were a hint demurer now. It seemed with Sam’s promised help, the fire had dimmed behind your eyes and your tongue.

“How about I give you an escort, make sure you get home okay?” Dean found himself offering. “It’s getting pretty late on a Friday.”

Sam shot him a knowing look, but Dean ignored him, instead focusing on your face.

You hesitated. “It’s a bit far though. Out of your way, I’m sure.”

“All the more reason that you shouldn’t go it alone at this time of night,” he argued.

You considered his offer, and him, with a quick perusal. You seemed to be judging for yourself if he was trustworthy. Dean kept his posture straight, yet relaxed. Maybe he’d liked what he saw the moment he took you in, but after hearing your situation, he felt for you. It really was just an honest offer to walk you home.

“Where did you serve?” you asked. “The Army, the Navy, or the Air Forces?”

The question took him off guard for a beat, but he answered you.

“The Army,” he replied.

“Your rank?”

“I was a sergeant, ma’am.”

You looked at him a little more shrewdly, then you relaxed.

“I might’ve guessed,” you said. “All right, Sergeant. Let’s go then.”

You buttoned up your coat and turned to leave the office. Dean shot his little brother a raise of his brows and a what do ya know? kind of smile. He grabbed his dark brown jacket and hat and followed you out.

Sam’s smile was more reserved, with a shake of his head. He closed the door behind you and Dean and locked it. He still had some work he wanted to finish before tomorrow, and Dean’s little show of chivalry would give him time to do it.

Dean had his hands in his coat pockets as he walked with you down the long city sidewalk. Night had drawn into the November sky, but with all these lights, he couldn’t see many stars. It was also cold as all hell. The frigid wind slapped at him every time they turned the corner of a building, snapping right into his bones.

Still, he supposed there was a kind of attractiveness to the city at night. The stores and their signs were all lit up gold and other neon colors. Couples and families walked together, all done up nice for wherever dinner reservation or movie they were trying to get to. It begged the question of what your husband was doing right now if he didn’t notice his wife out at this time of night.

“Where’s your husband tonight, if I might ask?” said Dean.

You shot him a look, reading between his lines.

“He claims to be working late virtually every night of the weekdays,” you said, “but he usually comes home stinking of alcohol.” Your eyes dimmed, even with the pretty lights shining in them. “He was in the Army as well. A corporal. He’s had a hard time adjusting to being back home, and I know that… He doesn’t sleep very well. And do you know, he had a hard time finding work for a while too. Luckily, he has his father’s business to fall back on.”

Dean tried not to show how much your words resonated with him. He didn’t think it a good thing to have common ground with your husband, if he was the kind of man you said he was.

“Yeah? What’s his business?” he asked.

“He manages a meat production plant, of all things,” you said.

“Ah, located in the Meat Packing District, I presume?”

“You’d presume right.”

Dean nodded. “I get it. I inherited the family home back in Lawrence. I just need to figure out what’s next.”

“Lawrence?”

“Kansas.”

“Oh, the Midwest,” you inclined your head. “What’s it like there?”

Dean scoffed. “Dusty.”

You almost laughed at that. At least it earned him your first smile of the night.

“Do you have an idea of what you’ll do for work?” you asked.

Dean chuckled. “Not just yet. Didn’t plan that far, you know?”

“Why not?” you asked.

“Hmm. Guess I didn’t see the point,” he replied with a mild shrug. It hid a deeper, darker well inside him. The part of him that hadn’t thought he’d make it back home after the war.  

You turned to him then, and you saw it behind his eyes. The two of you walked in silence for a little while as the neighborhood blocks began to shift and change, becoming somewhat quieter, more residential. Dean put himself between you and the sidewalk when a taxi zoomed by too close to the curb, resting a hand on the small of your back for protection.

Part of you trilled inside at the small touch, but you immediately beat that reaction down. Dean Winchester was an attractive man, to be sure. His hair was a lighter brown than his brother’s, and shorter too. He had an air of roguishness about him, even though he’d been perfectly pleasant so far.

But by the way he eyed you when you came into the law office, you had a strong feeling he was a flirt. You had no room for that in your life, and not only because you were still a married woman.

Yet, there was something about him that…well, made you curious.

“I was a nurse,” you said eventually, earning his attention. “I was there when they liberated Paris.”

Dean turned to you with newfound interest lighting his green eyes. “You were at Normandy.”

You nodded. “For a while. Almost a year before D-Day.”

Dean let out a short, if humorless chuckle, running a hand through his hair.

“Well, that’s where I was. At that time, at least,” he said. You gave him a similar look; respect, and perhaps finding a kindred spirit.

“I did what I could do before, during, and afterwards,” you said. “I think that’s all we can do now, Mr. Winchester.”

“Call me Dean,” he said. “If you like.”

A second smile almost tugged at your lips. You nodded in agreement.

“Dean,” you said.

In another ten minutes, he was walking you up to your porch at your apartment building. You travelled up the four small steps, while Dean stopped at the second one. For the first time, you had the vantage point above him as you turned on your heel to face him. You were about to thank him when he shook his head, scoffing.

“This guy must be dumb, deaf, and blind, sweetheart,” he said.

Your face warmed in a blush, and you gave a rueful smile when you realized what he meant. He was looking up at you like someone who couldn’t understand your plight. You knew the feeling.

“That’s kind of you, but you don’t have to do that,” you said.  

His brows furrowed. “Do what?” 

“Try to make me feel better,” you said, scuffing the toe of your sensible heels against the brick platform. Dean crossed his arms. 

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because the fact of the matter is, Sergeant, words don’t move me anymore.” You picked up your gaze from the ground, and you met his. “Flattery is just a pretty way of lying, and I’ve grown to really, truly hate lying.” 

It took him a moment, but Dean nodded.

“I guess that’s fair,” he said. He had to stop himself before he proved your point with a smart word on your pretty smile. Although, it wouldn’t have been a lie. He tipped his hat up. “Goodnight then, Mrs. Milligan.” 

You stopped him from leaving with just your voice. 

“Please,” you said, your eyes briefly closing. “Just…call me by my name. My first name.” 

Dean slowly smiled. “Perfect. I like your name better anyway.” 

This time, your smile in return was genuine, if tinged with amusement. 

“Goodnight, Dean,” you replied.

He gave you a charming grin and a more casual soldier’s salute. Then he stuck his hands back in his pockets, turned on his heel, and began to walk back the way he came. You couldn’t help but watch him go for a second or two. His legs were slightly bowed under his slacks, you noticed.

With a blush, you shook your head to rid yourself of those silly thoughts. You closed the door.

That night, Michael came home late, as usual—this time at two in the morning. He reeked of alcohol, also per usual, but this time when he rolled over towards you in bed to say goodnight, you stiffened. He also smelled like a woman’s perfume. Expensive stuff. 

This was one of those signs you hadn’t wanted to tell Sam Winchester. Frankly, it was crude and embarrassing.

“Sorry it’s so late, darling. Got held up,” he said, kissing your shoulder through your nightgown. His fingers played with the ends of your hair while you laid facing away from him.

You squeezed your eyes shut. You were fighting every instinct you had inside you that wanted to recoil from his touch and bolt out of the bed. When just a few months ago, his touch was all you craved, almost desperately so. 

“Where were you?” you asked. Somehow, you kept your voice steady and calm. “You weren’t at the office all this time.”

“Had a couple of drinks with the guys after,” he said with a shrug. “Sorry. The night got away from us, but, uh…I’ll be home on time for dinner tomorrow.”

With your back turned to him, you were able to roll your eyes.

“What’d you make tonight, outta curiosity?” he asked.

“Egg salad sandwiches,” you replied flatly. 

“Hmm. No real loss there then.” 

Your teeth clenched. “If I thought you were actually going to be home when you said you would, maybe I would make a rump roast with all the fixings.” 

Michael paused, but then, he grasped your shoulder, slowly turned you around in the bed until you were facing him. His face was sterner. 

“Excuse me?” 

You remained quiet. Your gaze travelled downwards, avoiding his.

Michael huffed, shaking his head. “Sometimes you got a real mouth on you. One of these days, you just might regret it.” 

He turned his back on you, laying on his side. You did the same while trying to stem your tears.

When did this become your life?

AN: Oof, sorry for all that angst at the end there, but I hope you liked the first chapter! Did you enjoy soldier!Dean and soldier/lawyer!Sam? Do you want to find a dark alley for Michael yet? 😅

And are you ready for what's coming up next? 😘

Next Time:

Dean both could and couldn’t believe it. He might not have been a saint himself when it came to the fairer sex, but if he went through the whole ordeal of marrying one, let alone a straight-shooting woman like you, beautiful, clever…

“Geez,” he muttered. “He could’ve at least waited until the ink dried on the certificate.” 

Sam nodded in agreement. He picked up the receipt to the Cotton Club, and he shot his brother a grin.

“Wanna go to the club tonight?”

Read Part 2 on Patreon! || Coming to Tumblr/Ao3 on 2/14

Join My Patreon 🌟 Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

Between the City & the Stars Masterlist

Jacklesverse Bingo Masterlist

Dean Winchester Series List

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Follow @zepskieswrites (with notifications on) to get notified every time I drop a new story or chapter. 💜

Dean Winchester Tag List (Part 1)

@luci-in-trenchcoats @lamentationsofalonelypotato @winchestergirl2 @deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @foxyjwls007 @mostlymarvelgirl @thebiggerbear

@globetrotter28 @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdean @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78

@waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @my-stories-vault @kayleighwinchester

@rizlowwritessortof @k-slla @jackles010378 @alwaystiredandconfused @nancymcl

@this-is-me19 @spnwoman @illicithallways @pieandmonsters @deansbbyx

@mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @cheynovak @jollyhunter

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @leigh70 @aylacavebear @jessjad

@kmc1989 @siampie @rubyvhs @masked-lost-girl @spnbabe67

@deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused @impala-dreamer

[cthulhus-curse]

remiiii ivr written a thing, Emo!Wanda and her daddy!

"I said I was sorry."

"You should have thought about that before mouthing off, baby." You smirked as you pulled her panties to the side. "Now, I already bought tickets, and there are no returns, so you'll still get to come to the art gallery with me, but..."

Gently, you teased her already glistening folds, listening to her whimper. You pushed Wanda's favorite toy, a large black vibrator your could control with a remote, inside of her. "That's it. Good girl." You brushed your fingertip over her sensitive clit, relishing in the tiny gasp that slipped from your girlfriend.

"Do I really have room wear it all day, daddy?" She whined, her face flushed a deep pink. You pulled her close, and smirked.

"You will if you want to be daddy's good girl." You whispered, and dropped your voice lower. "Just remember your safe word if it's really too much, okay?"

At your care, her blush deepened. "Yes, sir." She huffed quietly, pulling up her stockings and adjusting her skirt. You carefully slipped her rings onto her fingers, followed by clipping her small collar with a simple silver tag. It had a heart on the front, but on the back was your name and phone number.

She grew flustered when she realized which one you'd given her. "There, now if anyone finds my dumb puppy, they can bring her right home to me." You watched her fidget with her skirt. "Come on, baby, let's go."

You'd made sure to open all doors for her, and kept hold over her hands, running your thumb over her fingers. Well, the ones that weren't covered by fingerless gloves. Through the art gallery, you allowed her to relax a little, let her guard down, make her think you'd forgotten about the large toy buried in her cunt.

You had not.

As you rounded a corner with her, you reached into your pocket, and pressed the start button on the toy's remote. You felt Wanda stiffen, gasping softly. "You okay, baby?" You asked innocently, and if looks could kill, you'd be a butch in the grave.

"Yes." Came her response through gritted teeth.

You raised the vibrations higher. "Yes, what?"

"Yes... Daddy." She stammered quietly. You pulled her again, towards the next section of the gallery.

"Good girl." You murmured, and, as the two of you walked, you noticed your girlfriend looking more and more spaced out. "Wanda, why don't you tell me about these pieces? You're the one who knows art so well."

"I, um..." Her breathing was shallower, coming out in little huffs. "These, ngh..." She almost moaned when you set the vibration to maximum for just a moment.

"Oh, baby, is your mind getting all fuzzy? Do you want to sit and take a break?" You cooed.

"Y-yes, daddy." She breathed.

You put an arm around her, letting your hand drift towards her ass. It was midday in the middle of the week, so you may as well have been alone, but the thought of someone seeing the two of you made you want to tease her further.

It was a long walk to a rest spot, one you ate every second of, raising and lowering the vibrations in her toy.

Entering the small Cafe dining area, you ordered a drink for the both of you, and a small treat for her. The vibrator was nearly at maximum speed, and her walk was turning more into a stumble.

"Poor, dumb baby, what if someone sees you like this? Here, sit in my lap, princess." You pulled her in, pressing your packer against her soaked panties. You could feel her trying to grind down onto it, and you held her in place, pressing your arm against her. She squeaked as you pushed on the toy within her.

"Nah uh. You accused me of cheating during game night. Now, my bratty little puppy..." You turned it to max, watching her mindlessly keep trying to grind her cunt against you. Feeling merciful, you slipped your hand into her skirt, pressing your fingers to her swollen clit. "How many times can you cum like this?"

oh my god this is so hot?? I have no words. But I would die for emo Wanda/butch daddy Reader. This is just…thank you-

[samynnad102687]

"If anybody would like to send me some asks with microfic prompts, I'd appreciate it. 🥰"

how about james as a swim coach and sirius forces reg to get lessons from james, not knowing reg has had the hugest crush on his big brother's best friend. so shirtless james + swimming = flustered reg.

I asked for a 'micro fic' prompt, just to turn around and write a 2500-word one-shot. Clearly, I can't write anything short.

Thanks for the prompt.

Here is swim coach James teaching Regulus how to swim while Regulus tries not to die from the close contact.

Swimming Lessons

“I don’t want to go!” Regulus nearly shouted as he tried to pull his arm out of Sirius’ hold. 

Sirius had asked if he wanted to go somewhere and Regulus stupidly didn’t ask where he wanted to go. He assumed he wanted to go shopping since Sirius had been mentioning that he needed some new boots to go with his leather jacket for the last week. When they pulled up to the aquatic centre, Regulus started to regret his decision to come along. 

“Oh, come on, Reggie. It’s not going to be that bad,” Sirius replied, dragging him across the lawn towards the front door. “You need to learn to swim.”

“Why?” he asked defiantly. “I have no intention of ever going in the water.”

“Because it’s a life skill that everyone should know. Besides, James is a great instructor.”

Regulus screeched to a halt, yanking his arm out of Sirius’ grip. He crossed his arms as Sirius turned towards him with a confused expression. Regulus already didn’t want to learn how to swim, he hated the water. Even if he did, there was no way he would learn anything if James was the instructor. Regulus has had a minor crush on his brother’s best friend since he came back from a sports summer camp three years ago. 

“What? Do you hate James now or something?” Sirius quirked an eyebrow in question. 

“No,” Regulus scoffed. “I just don’t want to learn how to swim. I told you that.”

They stood in the middle of the walkway, glaring at each other before Sirius sighed and the corner of his lip twitched. Great. He’s gonna try to bribe me. It’s not going to work.

“What if I buy you those new Doc Martens you’ve been eyeing for the past three months?”

Fuck! He had been eyeing them and he was trying to save up for them but since being disowned and losing his inheritance, it was hard to keep up with his bills let alone indulge in something for himself. 

Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, but if I drown it’s your fault.”

“Ha, you’re not going to drown. James won’t let you,” Sirius chuckled, grabbing his arm again and dragging him through the door. 

Regulus resigned himself to being in close contact with his crush for the next however long. At least he wouldn’t be the only one. Sirius stopped at the receptionist's desk, talked for a few minutes in a quiet tone so Regulus couldn’t hear him then laughed loudly and grabbed the swim trunks from the blonde.

“Here you go,” he said, holding out the bright red shorts. “You can change in the bathroom over there.”

Regulus glared at him again before snatching them and stalking off the restroom and taking his time changing. He knew he was delaying the inevitable but he figured Sirius might forget about him if he took too long. 

Or not.

“Let’s go, Reggie,” Sirius shouted from the door. “Or I’ll throw you in the pool in your clothes.”

Regulus poked his head out of the stall, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, little brother,” Sirius smirked before crossing his arms over his chest and cocking a challenging eyebrow.

“Ugh.”

Of course, Sirius would. He finished quickly and sauntered out into the hallway, leading to the pool. He glanced at the door leading outside before sighing and following Sirius inside, the chlorine smell assaulting his sense of smell as soon as they opened the door. Regulus took a deep breath. He could do this. He just had to keep telling himself that he could and then he might believe it. 

Once they were inside, Regulus looked around. There was a large pool and three diving boards at the end at varying heights, as well as some bleachers off to the side. What he didn’t see, was James or anybody else aside from Sirius, who was standing next to him. 

“Where is everybody?” Regulus asked dumbly. “I thought this was a–”

He cut himself off as someone jumped off the diving board with a splash and swam to the edge. Regulus had to will his breathing to get under control as he watched James, clad in a pair of tight, barely there shorts, pulling himself out of the water and shaking his hair before running his hand through it. The water glistened off his golden six-pack as it dripped down to his toned v-line. Regulus felt his heart rate pick up as the back of his neck started to burn from the blush he was sure was there. 

“Pads!” James exclaimed when he noticed them standing there. He walked over to them and pulled Sirius in for a hug.

“Ugh, Prongs, not the jacket!” Sirius shrieked, pushing him off and James laughed loudly. 

Regulus’ knees nearly buckled from the sound. He tried to take a subtle breath, willing his heart to get back to normal as James turned towards him. It didn’t work.

“Hey, Reg. I’m surprised Sirius got you here.”

“I had to bribe him… after I kidnapped him,” Sirius chuckled when Regulus didn’t say anything.

James shoved Sirius in the shoulder and Sirius pushed him back, nearly pushing him back in the pool. When they were done messing around, James turned back to Regulus.

“Sorry,” he said sincerely. “He told me you agreed to come last week.”

What? Oh, he was going to kill his brother. 

“Of course, I didn’t believe him,” James chuckled before speaking softer, “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“It’s-” Regulus cleared his throat, hoping the blush went away when they goofing off. “It’s fine. I should probably learn anyway, considering there is a high probability of Sirius throwing me in if I disagreed.”

“Are you sure?” James asked with a gentle smile. 

“Yeah. I just thought there would be more people here when I found out what we were actually doing.”

“Oh.” Regulus was confused. He was going to ask him what he meant by ‘oh’ but James wasn’t looking at him anymore. He was staring at Sirius, who had an expression that screamed he was innocent. “You didn’t tell him it was a private lesson?”

“Hey, I was barely able to get him here,” Sirius remarked, putting his hands up in surrender.

James pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a heavy sigh. “Go back to the lobby and bug Marlene. You’re not allowed in here anymore.”

“But-” Sirius started before looking at James and Regulus had never seen that expression on James’ face. Granted, the only expressions he had really seen were smiles and gentleness. “Fine.”

James turned back to Regulus after the door closed. “I’ll ask again. Are you sure you want to learn? I’m not going to make you do anything that you don’t want to do, like your idiot brother,” he said, raising his voice on the last part so Sirius could hear.

“Umm…” Regulus’ eyes darted everywhere except at the toned chest in front of him. “I- I-” he cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus on James’ face inside of his water covered abs, “I guess I could try, since I’m already here,” he said as nonchalantly as he could manage.

Oh, that smile is going to be the death of me. Regulus willed the blush to disappear as much as he could, averting his eyes to the pool. 

“Okay. I promise nothing’s going to happen. I’ll make sure of it,” James responded, reassuringly.

“O- okay.”

James led him over to the shallow end of the pool and jumped in before holding his hand out for Regulus to take if he wanted to. Regulus stood there nervously as he looked from the water to James and back again repeatedly. 

“Don’t worry,” James said with a gentle smile. “It’s only three feet deep right here.”

He stood up completely so the water only came up to his waist to prove his point. Regulus sighed again, forcing himself to focus on the water and not James. He stepped towards the edge of the pool and dipped his toe in, testing the water’s temperature. It was warm and he hated that he couldn’t use it as an excuse to run out of the aquatic centre. 

“What exactly are we going to do?” Regulus asked as he grabbed the railing of the ladder.

James smiled and Regulus was glad he had something to hold onto as his knees wobbled slightly. 

“Well, since I can tell you’re nervous, I figured we could start with getting used to the water and maybe work on floating today,” James remarked as he stepped closer to the edge. “If you want to continue after that, then we can do some more or set up another time to work on it.”

Regulus hated that that sounded logically. He had hoped James was planning on throwing him into the deep end then he could have bailed without worrying about hurting anybody’s feelings. He sighed and sat on the edge, letting his legs dangle over the ladder and held his hand out for James to take to guide him into the water. 

James did before putting one of his hands on Regulus’ hip gently, waiting for him to scoot farther into the water. It took some time but Regulus managed to get all the way into the water and moved away from the edge towards the center with James’ guiding hand on his lower back. Regulus took a subtle deep breath to calm his racing heart at having his crush so close to him. It was a good thing they were in the water. He never would have been able to stay standing if he was still on land. 

“Okay,” James started, coming around to the front to face Regulus. “Now that you’re in the water, how do you feel?”

Regulus thought about it for a few seconds before locking eyes with James. That was a mistake as he saw the gentleness in the hazel irises and he hoped James couldn’t tell he was flustered. 

“G- umm, good. I think I’m good,” Regulus managed to get out when he looked back at the water, composing himself again. 

“Great. You’re doing so good already,” James beamed and Regulus’ heart skipped a beat at the praise. “Do you want to try floating or is this enough for the day?”

“Uhh… I think we could try floating. I’m not going to go under the water, right?”

“No, no of course not. I’ll keep you up the whole time,” James said quickly.

Regulus hated that he was so accomodating. It made him fall for James even more than he already was. Pretty soon, other people might notice his infatuation and start to tease him about it. Especially if Sirius figured it out. 

“Okay,” he replied, nodding his head before the word was out of his mouth. 

“Great,” James smiled gently. “Okay, I’m going to put my hand on your lower back and will gingerly move your legs up so you’re on your back. Is that alright?”

Regulus took a second to think about what that would feel like and figured this was probably the only way he was going to have James’ hands on him. He also forgot that he was in the water as James stood in front of him with the sweetest smile he had ever seen. At least until the water moved around them. 

James took a step closer and held his hand out, waiting for Regulus to turn around so he could place it on his back. Regulus did so and shivered when James placed his hand there. James guided him onto his back and Regulus made a point to not freak out as his hair touched the water when his legs were up. He was so focused on the feeling of James’ hand on his back that he didn’t notice he was floating by himself until James beamed at him from above. 

“What?” he asked with a little bite at the obvious amusement on James’ face. 

“You’re floating… by yourself,” he replied, showing Regulus his hands to prove his point. 

It took him a few seconds to register what was happening before he started flailing and James grabbed his hips before he went under the water. Once Regulus was standing back on the bottom of the pool, he smacked James in the chest, sucking in his breath when he made contact with his solid upper body. 

“You said you weren’t going to let go,” Regulus whisper-shouted. He didn’t want his brother coming in and asking what was going on. 

“No,” James smirked, “I said I would keep you up and I did. You didn’t go under the water, did you?”

Regulus glared at him for a few seconds before making his way to the ladder and hoped his heart didn’t make him do something stupid. James chuckled behind him but didn’t stop him. They got out of the pool and Regulus stalked towards the door. He needed to get out of there. He pushed the door open, grabbed his clothes from Sirius and made his way to the restroom to change back into his dry clothes again. 

He took his time changing, mostly to calm his heart down and will the blush off his pale cheeks before returning to his brother and most likely James. When he finally came out of the bathroom, James was talking to Sirius and the blonde receptionist jovially. 

“You good?” Sirius asked when he emerged. 

“Fine. Let’s go. You owe me a new pair of Docs,” Regulus grumbled. 

Sirius chuckled and when Regulus turned towards them, James was standing there with a sweet smile. 

“You did really well today, Regulus,” he said easily taking a step towards him. “Would you like to try another day? Maybe get you actually swimming next time.”

Regulus stumbled over his own feet as he took a step back from James’ closeness. James reached out, grabbing his arm so he didn’t fall on his ass. Everything seemed to stop as Regulus looked up into James’ golden irises. His breath stuttered as his arm heated up with where James was holding him up. 

“I’d really love to see you again, love,” James whispered, causing Regulus to suck in a breath and he nodded subtly. James smiled before straightening up and turning towards Sirius. “And Pads…”

“Yeah?”

“No more kidnapping your brother.”

“Regulus..”

“Hmm?”

“I can give you my number and you can text me when you want to set up another lesson.”

“Okay.” Regulus nodded, pulling his phone out without thinking about it. 

James entered his number before winking and handing it back. Regulus looked at the phone in his hand, noticing there was a new note open on it. He snapped his eyes up to look at James but he was already saying goodbye to Sirius and talking to the receptionist. 

He clicked on the note without thinking. 

Text me anytime. Even if it’s not about swimming lessons.

James

Regulus was sufficiently freaking out now. There was no way that James was flirting with him right now, especially in front of Sirius. But he really hoped he was.

[sturniololuvrer]

𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝙱𝚊𝚌𝚔…𝙱𝚎 𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚎 — 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚝 𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚘 18+ 𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 (2/?)

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: shy!, virgin! Matt x fem! reader

𝙿𝚕𝚘𝚝: you and the triplets are practically best friends, you met them in LA, where you live. You and Matt unknowingly have feelings for each other, so when they go back to Boston for a whole month, you both realize how strong your feelings really are…

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: fluff, slight angst?, sounds of masturbation.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 1,379

𝚊/𝚗: This is the second part to this story! Part 1 can be found here! There should only be one more part to this depending on how I feel. I used the chapter as a bridge to work on my plot writing so bear with me! I’m sorry this took so long, these past few weeks have been crazy-half my house got redone, it was my birthday last week (saw ZAYN 😭), my semester started, and I have strep throat lmfao but part 3 should be out sooner! Thanks for the patience! xx

You’re still seated at the bar with your friend about 15 minutes later after your conversation with Matt as your phone vibrates once more in your purse. You pull it out, furrowing your eyebrows as you see that Matt sent you a voice message.

You excuse yourself and go into the bathroom where the music is less loud. You find an empty stall and sit on the toilet seat, placing an AirPod in your ear to listen to the message, assuming it’s gonna be him telling you about the Boston trip.

You were oh, so very wrong, almost dropping your phone into the toilet as Matt’s moans fill your ears. “What the fuck?!” You gasp out into the bathroom, utterly shocked and confused, but not making any moves to stop the audio from playing.

Your cheeks flush as you listen to his whines and groans and you feel like you might pass away as you hear him whimper your name. You gasp again, placing a hand over your mouth as you hear the obvious sound of him cumming, a string of curses following.

After you stare at the message for a few minutes, you start to think. Did he mean to send this?? Did he somehow figure out you liked him and sent it? Was it an accident? Your mind reels, sheer confusion and slight panic forming a pit in your stomach as he sends no message explaining his previous one.

Matt has been pacing his room for the past 30 minutes. He’s absolutely mortified and disgusted that he’d send you that video, but more so that you haven’t acknowledged that you heard what he’d sent, leaving him on read.

He’s way too humiliated to explain himself because it’s obvious, to him at least that he’d just admitted he has feelings for you. He feels like he may die from embarrassment at this point, practically on the verge of tears. After another hour passes and you haven’t replied to him, he decides to just go to bed.

A few days go by and neither of you have the courage to text the other. You still talk to Nick and Chris everyday but you don’t dare say a word about what had happened. Matt is getting antsy, wanting nothing more than to call you and explain himself, but the thought of you rejecting him, or worse, not wanting to be his friend anymore is too much for him. He decides to just wait out the last two weeks of their trip and talk to you when they get back.

As the fifth day of not speaking to each other rolls by, he can’t take it anymore. The longest you’ve gone without talking to each other since you’ve met has been like 12 hours and his overwhelming feelings for you are not helping.

In a dazed and desperate moment at 4 a.m., he buys a plane ticket back to LA for the next afternoon without telling you or his family why. When the time for his flight arrives, he packs his stuff back up and gives half-assed responses to his family’s questions and concerns. He tells them he’ll explain it to them soon and rushes out the door, practically diving into the Uber.

You’re sitting at home at around 10 p.m., reading a book in your bed. This is the first time you’re enjoying yourself since the debacle with Matt and it’s raining in LA, which is a rare and very welcome sight, to you at least. You’re humming softly as you read and listen to the downpour of the rain on your roof.

At one point, you hear a knock on your apartment door. You get confused as it’s too late for a package and it’s pouring rain. You hesitantly get out of bed, placing your book down on your nightstand and moving to the door.

You stand by it for a moment, waiting to see if there’s another knock as you’re slightly worried for your safety. After a few seconds, there’s a louder knock, making you jump slightly. You take a deep breath and slowly unlock the door and open it.

You yelp as you see a drenched Matt standing on your doorstep, looking at him in pure shock for a moment before tugging him inside the warmth of your house. “W- what the fuck are you doing here?! Don’t you have two more weeks in Boston??”

“I-I had to come back…needed to be here…” he pants out, his cheeks flushed red. You quickly grab him a towel, wrapping it around him. “What?? Why?” You ask, still shocked. He holds the towel around him gratefully, huffing softly. “The voice message I sent you…” he starts.

You blush softly as memories of his moans flood your mind, but you quickly shake them, mustering up a small, “oh…” He gulps, continuing his sentence, his cheeks getting darker and darker as he speaks, “I-I’m so fucking sorry…that was an accident and I didn’t mean to send it. I know it made you uncomfortable because you didn’t answer- obviously it made you uncomfortable I- I’m just so sorry I-“ He starts rambling.

You quickly stop him by placing a hand on top of his and leading him to sit down on your couch. “Hey, relax…” You think for a moment, finding the right words. “It didn’t make me uncomfortable, Matt…it just really confused me…”

He groans softly “I’m so sorry it was an accident…I dropped my phone on my chest and it- did that…” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Wait hold on…how did that even happen? How did it move from a different app to our messages on its own and start the voice message?”

He somehow blushes even deeper, looking away. “I-I was already in our messages when I-um started…” You get even more confused until you remember the picture you’d sent him, your cheeks tinting pink. “O-oh…you were- to the picture I sent?” You ask, just being sure you’re on the same page.

“Y-yes…” he practically whimpers out in mortification. “I’m so sorry…I didn’t mean to make things weird…we can just ignore this…pretend I don’t feel the way I do…” he begs, not wanting to lose what he has with you. You sigh softly, feeling guilty because the fact that you didn’t call him or say anything about the voice message was obviously making him feel crazy and ended up making him cut his family visit short.

“Shit…no we’re not gonna ignore this...” He’s somehow convinced himself you’re gonna tell him you never want to see him again. “W-what??” You decide to just blurt it out, not wanting to keep the secret any longer, especially since you’re sure he feels the same now, finishing your sentence. “…Because…I-i feel the same way…”

His eyes go wide and his mouth drops open in shock. For what feels like hours, but was only like a minute, you just look at each other, the only sound in the room being him dripping water onto your couch. You don’t say a word, desperate for him to just say something.

“A-are you serious…?” Is all he can get out in his state. You just nod softly, feeling like you’d rather go into a hole and never come out than speak right now. There’s another moment of silence before he speaks again. “How long?” Is all he says. Your cheeks turn red as you realize what he’s asking, speaking softly. “How long have I had feelings for you?” He nods.

You swallow, taking a deep breath for a moment before telling him. “Since the day we met I think…” He somehow gets even more shocked, unable to believe you’ve liked him just as long as he’d liked you. “Holy shit…me too…” It’s your turn to be shocked now, your eyes going wide. “W-what??” Is all you can muster. He decides to fuck it, spilling the secret he’s been holding for almost two years.

“Fuck, I’m in love with you…I have been for so long.” He practically whispers, his heart racing and his cheeks bright red. You do the only thing can think of in the moment, quickly moving closer on the couch, not caring how soaked he is, and pressing a kiss to his lips.

𝚊/𝚗: ugh I hate this I swear the next part will be better…I am SO sorry for the people that waited so long for this just for there to be nothing juicy, but I promise it’s coming! Thanks for the support and any feedback is appreciated or comments about anything at all are welcome! xx

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @mattscumslutt @courta13

[dhmis-autism]

"anyways id survive in that house" sounds like smth duck would say before dying. again.

NO BUT I COULD DO IT!!!!

not physically of course but mentally? i'm SOLID. i'm autistic, i hate change, i already have memory issues, there's no way that house would get the better of me i'd win for SURE

[tenwhiteandalusians]

and then no one said anything about the fact that if i watched ONE MORE episode tenax pulls a "i'm not angry i'm just disappointed i'm hurt" about scorpus signing with the white faction.

[yanderespamton78]

the current state of the arg

sorry guys the art isnt arting D:

(btw if youre confused on why i drew turnip like that i was referencing the picrew he did ages ago bc idk it looked fun to draw anddd i dont like taking reference off real life images)

[butnotbubblegum]

using the tags to vent my current emotional state into the void bc ig story feels like a bad plan for this, read at your own risk.

[vampmilf]

barely an hour at work and already on the brink of another breakdown i need to quit this fucking job and/or perhaps kill myself

[attractthecrows]

retconning stroud out of the deep roads so i can shove laure amell and the hawke siblings and varric and anders all into the same little camp. they would all have such a bad time

[dirt-str1der]

Boys were invented for me to chase around the nightmare woods with a big knife and blunderbuss